While You Were Sleeping
by MissKittyFisher
Summary: Emma Swan can't sleep. Dark magic swirls through her veins, thrilling her mind, stirring her body, driving her in one particular direction... SwanQueen, rated M for upcoming chapters, I'll try to play nicely ;)
1. Chapter 1

Tap, tap, tap. The unconscious drumming of the branch tip against the window pane was slowly but successfully driving her insane. Flirting with the gentle nighttime breeze that danced through the streets of Storybrooke, the thin spiny finger of what had once been her favourite tree allowed itself to be picked up, then dropped back down again in a maddening, arrhythmic, monotonous melody that did nothing to calm the swirling distemper that was her permanent state of being.

Tap, tap, tap. She gazed up at the ceiling above her bed, eyes focused on a small spot of peeling paint that hung resolutely, refusing to separate itself. How long had she been staring at it? She didn't know. Couldn't remember. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time was such a useless concept now, its constraints and regulations no longer relevant to her, the tick-tock of the hallway clock downstairs utterly futile, simply another annoying, jarring, _constant_ reminder that she was no longer human.

Tap, tap, tap. Could she even remember what it was to sleep? To close her eyes and drift off into the nothingness, a black, inky refuge where pleasant dreams held out their arms to embrace her? Now there was no escape from the darkness, whether eyes open or shut. It held onto her soul, stroked her spirit, kissed her ego and stretched itself out across her bodily actions, spreading its evil mantle over every aspect of her existence. At times she hated it. At others she loved it, revelled in it, rejoiced. That scared her beyond words. If only she could shut it out, just for a moment, for a second, turn her back on it and gaze on life as it had been before. Feel the sun on her face, the genuine warmth of friendship, the fearless love of family. Or just fucking sleep! Tap, tap, tap. She growled with fury, scowling at the window. With a flick of the wrist and a wave of the hand, the infernal tree was gone.

Silence.

Was it golden? If anything it seemed louder than ever. The wind outside the window now picked up where the branch had left off, rustling leaves lying in the gutter, thudding against the creaking sign at Granny's, sliding itself through a hole in the woodwork with an insidious whistle. She rolled over on the bed, twisting herself in amongst the covers, slamming a plush pillow over her head and screaming soundlessly into the thick down. Was there no respite? No peace?

She sat up slowly, smoothing her palms over the white silk bedsheets with some degree of controlled restraint, blowing the air from her cheeks. She counted to ten, tensing her stomach muscles and pacing her breathing in an effort to quell the bubbling rage that churned inside her.

In the daytime, when the sun shone through the town, bouncing merrily off windows, glittering in small puddles at the side of the kerb, catching itself on the lake and tripping across the small waves that lapped against the shores, it was so much easier. In the daytime, when there were people about, people to play with, to torment, to watch, to study, to follow, to plot against and for; then her mind at least had something to consume itself with. When night fell, and the rest of this small town's inhabitants turned themselves in to slumber, she and she alone would remain, pacing, relentless, never ending, slowly but surely losing sight of her cherished humanity.

She sighed heavily, swinging her legs off the bed. Who was she trying to kid? She didn't know why she still insisted on turning in but every night without fail, when that damned library clock struck midnight, she would ascend the stairs and lie in the middle of this completely pointless bed like some fucking corpse, driving herself crazy until the first rays of light crept through the blinds, innocently giving her permission to rise. If nothing else, she supposed, the routine allowed her a smattering pretence of normality in the midst of this current maelstrom.

Giving up, she made her way downstairs, her fingers tracing idly on the wooden bannisters, small sparks of dark magic flickering out from them, briefly illuminating the dim surroundings. She squeezed her hands into fists. The energy running through her veins, through her twitching muscles, was absolutely intoxicating, ever ready to leave her being in a fiery flash of alchemy. She felt as if she were permanently vibrating, her body singing in unison with some ancient power, the melody shadowy, their harmony dangerously thrilling. She was constantly tuned in, dialled up, turned on… for want of a better word, Emma Swan was now permanently horny.


	2. Chapter 2

The front door to the house shut behind her with a dull thud. She stopped, tilting her head upwards slightly, taking just a moment to appreciate the delicate caress of nighttime air that danced softly across her naked flesh. Energy flowed to and from her, an intricate, invisible, electric web of pure magic that only she could feel, only she could harness. Her fingers flexed automatically, curling into her fisted palm and out again, subconsciously begging to wield their power. She ignored the pulsations, placing her arms behind her back, clasping her fingers together in an effort to contain the dark sorcery.

The town lay silent before her, each household sleeping soundly, their occupants blissfully unaware of her mounting jealousy at their natural state. Her friends, her family… could she still call them that? Now that she was the Dark One she felt more and more as if the ties that bound them to her were fraying, fracturing, dissolving under the stress. She understood. Of course she understood. But that didn't mean that it hurt any less. She could still feel; she felt now more than she ever had before. She didn't just see the looks that passed between them, or hear the whispered conversations as her back turned. It was as if she could _taste_ their growing apprehension, _touch_ their fear. Now even Henry, even her son, her own flesh and blood looked at her as if she was some kind of stranger. That had almost killed her, had broken what little heart she had left in two. Day by day, their actions only drove her further away from them, deeper into the abyss, each choice, each reaction, each sliver of mistrust rendering their connections to her more and more fragile.

Quietly she wandered down Main Street, gliding soundlessly across the dusty road. In the distance a barn owl screeched, an awful vocal assault that echoed off the low slung clouds, bouncing back and forth. Somewhere a gate shuttered back and forth in the wind, the creek of its rusty hinges a low, rhythmic accompaniment to the frisson of branches rustling overhead. If one had been afraid of the dark, there was something in the air that would surely have given almost terrifying chills. But she was the Dark. The chills belonged to her. She was the terror that others hid from. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, an undeniable sadness settling deep within the pit of her soul. Drawing on her power, she swept her hands down her sides, the familiar black clouds rising up around her.

"Home", she muttered softly.

When she opened her eyes, she did not find herself within the usual cold surroundings of her town house. She frowned, puzzled. Since when was magic broken? She looked up, past the red apples that somehow still managed to glisten even in the midnight hour, casting her eyes across Regina's house. Henry. Of course. Home. She gave a wry, unamused smile.

Curious, she crossed across the grassy lawn, plucking an apple from the tree as she passed, raising it to her nose. Somehow they always seemed to carry the scent of Mayor Mills, much more so now that her senses were so very heightened. She shook her head, tossing the apple behind her.

The lights were off in Henry's room. With barely a thought she ascended from the ground, hovering effortlessly outside his window, pulling the curtain across with a twist of her fingers. Her son lay sleeping peacefully, the covers pulled up to his chin, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, thrown out for temperature control. There was so much love for him still, so much warmth and care and motherly emotion that still managed to cleave its way into her heart, no matter how hard the darkness tried to spit it out. He was and always would be her saving grace. His chest rose and fell steadily, hot breath spilling out in gentle snores, the flush of deep sleep crimson on his cheeks. If there was one place she might feel peaceful, it was here. And yet she felt as if she were tainting the scene, as if her very presence might bring some deep, unwanted disturbance to his dreams. Shame fell across her now, the heavy burden of the unclean, of the disappointment, of the wretched, of the Dark One. She turned her face away, pain etched across her features, Henry's curtains slipping shut again at her bidding.

She was about to leave when another window caught her eye. Regina. She looked around her. No-one was around. Furtively she crossed the front of the house, bringing herself to the Mayor's private sanctum. Intrigued, not sure exactly what she was doing, she parted the curtains and stared through.

Her breath caught in her throat, a tight moan falling unbidden from her lips as her sex clenched without warning. Regina lay spread out across her bed, not a stitch of clothing across her body, only the gossamer silk bed sheets clinging to every single damn curve. Captivated, Emma moved closer to the window, stopping suddenly when she heard the woman sigh softly in her sleep, her arm from above her head, dropping to her side, pulling the sheet from her body in the process. Emma marvelled at the beauty of the deep olive skin, swollen peaks rising from Regina's chest, moving softly with every breath. Regina's leg slid up, silk cascading down the length of her thigh, pooling at the apex of her hips, slender stomach muscles flexing ever so slightly at the fluttering touch. Emma's tongue flickered out, running across her bottom lip, her entire body pulsating with desire. Her fingers twitched without thinking; the silk sheet fell to the floor. _Fuck._ She could sense the magic growing between her legs, the desire mounting at the sight of Regina. Her fingers moved again; the Mayor's lips parted in a soft murmur, her body reacting to Emma's enchantment. Without moving, without touching, from outside the window Emma felt herself against Regina, felt the heat of her skin, the tremor of her muscles, the wetness that began to pool between her legs. Magic flowed between them, Regina's own unconsciously finding Emma's, matching it, blending with it, pulling it in. Emma watched spellbound as Regina's legs fell apart, her hands riding up and down her outer thighs, nails dragging against her skin, a pleasured moan rising up on the nighttime air as they did. Dark, swollen nipples stood quivering and erect, trembling with anticipation, straining for an invisible touch. Regina's hips suddenly thrust up into the air, her heady, musky pheromones storming Emma's senses, power surging between her legs.

"Emma!"

The sheer shock of Regina crying out her name was enough to break the spell, sending Emma flying to the floor with a bone-shattering crash. Bewildered, she lay where she landed, flattened against the damp grass, staring up at the passing clouds through the twisted branches of the apple tree. It was not the guttural, twisted, tortured way the Mayor cried out her name that had spat Emma down to the ground; it was the fact she had cried out her name at all! What the fuck, Regina?

The sound of a window opening stirred her from her confusion.

"Hello?"

 _Shit_. Henry. His bedroom light flickered to life.

"Is someone there? Mom?"

"Hey."

"What are you doing?"

She could hear the suspicion in his voice. Her shoulders slumped. She squinted up at him.

"Nothing. I couldn't sleep. Go back to bed."

He looked at her strangely, trying to determine if she was up to no good.

"Don't worry Henry, I'm not about to burn the house down."

"Haha," he said dryly, unconvinced. "Go home Mom."

She turned her back on him before he could say anything else.

"I was _trying_ to," she muttered in distemper.


	3. Chapter 3

The first few rays of faint sunlight breached the thin fabric of curtain that hung across her window, their gentle heat delicately stroking her skin and mind to life. Regina stretched out luxuriously, her toes curling deliciously, her fingers wiggling and flexing, her head pushing itself back into the silken pillows, allowing the muscles in her neck and shoulders to lengthen sufficiently before relaxing back down onto the bed. She opened her eyes, blinking hazily once, twice, hands coming up to rake through thick, lustrous locks of hair. She shivered slightly at the sensation. Something felt different. She couldn't put her finger on it, couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it was, but there was an edge to her this morning that wasn't usually there. She frowned, perfectly groomed eyebrows deepening their pitch momentarily, then shook her body slightly as if to throw the odd feeling off.

She could hear Henry moving about on the landing, getting ready for school. She threw a cursory look at the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. She had a while before she needed to get up. The odd energy that rode her limbs had begun to settle in the pit of her stomach, nudging gently but insistently between her legs. She rolled her hips slowly, enjoying the reaction, bit her lips together to stop the small moan that threatened to escape from between them. Grinding her ass absentmindedly into the sheets underneath her, Regina moved her arms up above her head, sliding them underneath the cool folds of her pillow, crossing her wrists one over the other, eyes fluttering shut, a small smile playing on the corners of her mouth. With a flick on her fingers, a small breeze began to dance across the swell of her sex, exquisite kisses of pure magic landing one after the other on the pulsating flesh that came to life between her legs. She could feel the wetness pooling inside her, feel the growing bundle of nerves that shook and trembled with anticipation. Her hips rocked upwards, her thighs parting, a quick gasp fleeing her lips as cold air came into contact with scorching heat…

"Mom!"

 _Fuck_! Henry banged on the door, the knob twisting from the other side. Regina scrambled in blind panic, the magic instantly disappearing, the Mayor falling ass over tit down the side of the bed in a desperate bid to cover her nakedness. As the bedroom door opened, Henry found himself looking at what appeared to be the floating head of his mother.

"Mom?"

Regina steeled her thundering blood pressure with every inch of restraint that she had, her hand reaching out to clutch at the silken sheet which for some reason was on the floor.

"Henry!"

Her son looked at her with no small amount of concern.

"Are you ok?"

Regina shook her head, dark curls falling over her eyes. She shoved them away and wrapped herself up in the sheet, trying to stand as gracefully as she possibly could.

"I'm fine. I must have fallen off the bed when you banged on the door." From the look on his face she could tell he didn't believe her. "What do you want?"

Obviously deciding to chalk this one up to Mom madness, the teenager shrugged it off with the kind of practiced flippancy that could only come with youth and magic. "Can you give me a ride to school? I have to take a science project in and it's too big to carry to the bus."

Regina groaned inwardly, the throbbing between her legs refusing to abate. "Of course. Give me 15 to shower and get dressed and then I'll drive you in."

Henry grinned. "Thanks."

She smiled back through the frustration. "No problem."

* * *

With no time to relieve herself in the shower, Regina's mood only worsened. Every single bump in the road threatened to send her into overdrive, every purred vibration from the revving engine causing her muscles to tighten in desperate spasms. Thankfully Henry was entirely oblivious, jumping out of the running vehicle with barely a word thrown back to her, science project safely in hands, calling out and catching up with his rag tag bunch of friends.

A car horn honked behind her, Regina catching sight of herself in the rearview mirror as she threw whoever it was a pointed scowl. Dilated pools of obsidian sat atop flushed cheeks. She glanced down at the thin filigree watch that wrapped itself around her wrist. Did she have time to head home, even if just for a few minutes? An event reminder flashed up on cell phone with almost pinpoint accuracy malice. A packed diary of small town minutiae lay ahead of her in all its bureaucratic glory. Her gloved fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning to white inside the soft, velveteen leather. All she wanted to do was to get herself off. Was that asking too much? With gritted teeth and growing discomfort in the seat of her lap, she turned the wheel and pulled the car out into the traffic.

* * *

Things had got so bad that by the end of the day, Regina couldn't even sit down without squirming in a pool of her own desire. What the _hell_ was happening to her? The Mayor was no stranger to a high libido, completely at ease with a rampant sex drive when the need hit, and had more than mastered the ability to pleasure herself to a satisfying conclusion. But today? She'd had neither the time to deal with it, or the ability to dampen it down. Time had dragged by with all the pace of a paraplegic snail, yet had been so filled to the brim with absolute nonsense that she'd had not a second to herself. She'd been so turned on, at one point she'd had to grip the ends of her desk to avoid shoving her hands down the front of her tight pencil skirt and fucking herself silly in front of a shocked Mary Margaret. She felt as if her blood pressure was about to go through the roof, suffering more than one head rush as a direct result. By the time she got to Granny's to pick Henry up, she was at absolute tipping point. The thought of having to control herself all evening until her son went to bed was just too much.

"David," she breathed with a flattering smile, sliding into the booth where Charming, Mary Margaret and Henry sat, ignoring the electricity that ripped through her body.

"Regina, how are you?"

"Never better!"

Mary Margaret looked at her quizzically, her head tilted at that ever-so-slight angle which meant she was trying to figure you out. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the Mayor's reddened face. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Normally Regina would have let fly with a subtly withering comment, just enough to take the wind out of the inquisitive woman's sails, but seizing on the rare opportunity that was unwittingly afforded to her, she raised the back of her hand to her temple, sighing heavily.

"You know, I don't feel 100% if I'm honest."

David regarded her. "You do look a little peaky."

"Flushed," said Mary Margaret.

Regina smiled wanly. "I think I might be coming down with something."

"Perhaps you should have some of Granny's chicken noodle soup," Mary Margaret opined helpfully. "It really does cure all manner of things."

The last thing on Regina's mind was eating fucking soup. She shook her head dolefully, casting her eyes down to the table before looking up at the happy couple. "I think I could do with an early night. Do you think…"

"Would you like us to look after Henry?"

Regina flashed a smile at Mary Margaret, then tried to reign it in slightly incase it undid her deceit. "Would you?"

"Um, I can look after myself you know," Henry grumbled at her side. "I'm not a kid." All three adults bestowed him with a look that effectively shut up up. He huffed and sipped on his milkshake. "Whatever…"

"Are you sure?" Regina asked.

"Of course," said Mary Margaret. "Take yourself home and just look after yourself. I can pop in later on to check on you if you like?"

"No!" Regina smoothed her palms over the table and breathed easily, flashing a pearly white smile. "No, that's really not necessary. If I'm asleep, the last thing I'll want is to be woken up."

"Of course."

Regina rose from the booth, squeezing herself around the table, carefully managing to avoid bumping her crotch and coming thoroughly undone in the process.

"I'll call round tomorrow to pick Henry up."

"Ok. Feel better!"

Regina smiled at the three of them, then walked over to the door. As the bouncing bell above the mantle rang to sound her freedom, she found herself suddenly crushed up against Emma, on her way into the diner.

"Miss Swan!"

As she uttered Emma's name, an overwhelming sensation rolled over her entire body, causing her hips to buck against Emma's thigh. An almost imperceptible sound left her lips, her eyes widening ever so slightly, the breath catching in her throat, a tremor running up her legs at the contact. So small, almost invisible, they would have been missed by a normal person. But Emma was not a normal person. Not by a long shot. Their eyes locked together for what felt like an insane eternity, yet could only have been mere milliseconds.

Regina pushed herself off the Dark One, gasping.

"Sorry!"

A wry smile crept across Emma's face. "Don't be."

Flustered, Regina sidled out of the awkward almost-embrace, fleeing into free space and fresh air with relief. Without looking back, she practically ran to her car, throwing her briefcase in the back and her ass in the front. Revving the engine and almost driving straight into the parked automobile in front in the process, she pulled out blindly, a screech of tyres marking her departure.

* * *

Five minutes later and she was finally in the privacy of her own home, her breath coming in heavy pants, her hands shaking, her insides shuddering. If she'd felt on fire earlier, she was now a raging inferno after coming into physical contact with Emma. What the _fuck_ was happening to her?

Pouring a glass of whiskey from the decanter in the living room, she knocked the amber liquid straight back, barely pausing to enjoy the heady, expensively spiced aroma. Blowing outwards, she licked her lips, slowing her heart rate with tremendous effort, reaching around the neck of the decanter and pouring herself a second glass, this one to be imbibed at a more healthy rate.

Kicking her heels off, she dangled the thick crystal tumbler between her fingers, padding softly up the stairs in the direction of the bathroom. Once there, she sat on the side of the huge bathtub, sipping slowly from the glass as steamy water vapour and the thrumming sound of running water began to fill the air.

Was it Emma that was making her feel like this? She knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was some kind of magic involved. She wandered over to the mirror and wiped a hand across the condensation, gazing at herself before her reflection misted over. The Dark One. The Saviour of Storybrooke. Emma. _Em-Ma_. Her wine red lips pursed as they formed her name. _Em-Ma_. She closed her eyes and thought about the woman who had at first been her nemesis, then her ally, then finally her friend. The woman who had thrown herself headfirst into the arms of the darkest of magics, just to save her. The woman with whom she shared a son. The woman who just moments ago had been pressed up against her, causing a whirlwind of physical emotions to run riot through her body. _Em-Ma._ Regina undid the buttons of her shirt, slipping the soft material from her skin, allowing it to fall to the floor. _Em-Ma_. Her fingers undid the delicate zipper on her skirt, the fabric shimmying over the curves of her hips and ass, joining the shirt in a pool by her feet. _Em-Ma_. Soft, lacy, barely-there bra and panties followed suit, hands lingering on flesh just a little longer than they should. _Em-Ma_.

Settling her tumbler on the side, Regina slid into the depths of the scaldingly hot water, steam rising up around her. Water rippled across her muscles, swirling between her limbs, touching places that had begged for release all day long. _Em-Ma_. Laying her head back on the rim of the bath, Regina eased her legs down the full length of the tub, allowing delicious ripples of magic to run up and down her body, her hands clutching the slippery white porcelain either side. She felt the magic flicker against her most sensitive parts, circling around her breasts, whipping lightly against her straining nipples. Giving in, she allowed whatever it was that had been torturing her all day complete access to her body, desperate to be played with, begging for deliverance, completely abandoned to the incredible vibrations that were now fully taking her over. In her mind's eye, Emma Swan shimmered before her, powerful in her dark sexuality, desire radiating from her in a way Regina had never dared register before. Her hand slipped from the side of the bath, falling between her legs, joining whatever magic was driving her to frenzy. Feverishly, her focus trained on Emma, her fingers splayed the lips of her sex apart, instantly finding the swollen head of her crushing desire. A deep, animalistic groan rose from her throat as the Emma in her imagination lowered her soft lips to meet Regina's need. Her own fingers swirling round and around on top of the throbbing knot, her legs falling to either side, opening her up, begging for more, a pulsating, thundering, wanton lust all but consuming her. Soundlessly crying out, her head thrown back, neck exposed, Regina's fingers dove inside her, meeting with no resistance, just naked need. Again and again she thrust, hips circling, rocking to parry against the motion, legs now pushing against the end of the bathtub, shoulders sinking below the water as her ass rose in equal measure. Emma hovered above her, a malevolent smile on her face, eyes dark with intent, her hand between Regina's legs, her fingers deep within her, owning her, taking her, possessing her. The thought was too much. Magic was now literally swirling around her, a stormy purple haze that spat and crackled with energy. Regina's mouth fell open, a scream strangled inside her own throat, her head twisting against the side of the tub as her body exploded on the end of her fingers. The orgasm ripped through her, tearing across muscles with searing electricity, cramping her limbs, shattering her senses, all the while her imagination staring straight into Emma Swan's eyes, kissing Emma Swan's mouth, holding on to Emma Swan's perfectly proportioned body, grinding against Emma Swan's...

" _EM-MA_!"

The name hung in the air, said out loud, escaped and now so very, very potent. Regina's hand was clasped over her mouth, eyes wide open, even as her body convulsed violently underneath her. Say it again, a voice inside her head whispered. Say it again!

Before she could even stop herself, her lips had betrayed her.

"Em-Ma," she moaned without thinking, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

One more time, the small voice hissed. One more time and you can have her for real. _Say it one more time_! Her hips bucked in the dying throes of her orgasm. Clinging on to the last scrap of sense she had remaining, Regina bit down on her tongue, painfully clamping the traitorous organ between her teeth lest it completely ruin her. What was she _thinking_? She knew full well what she was thinking. It was what had just utterly undone her. A sudden fear gripping at her, she pulled her hands from between her legs, ignoring the shock of the sudden loss. She shook her head, damp curls plastered against her forehead and across her flushed cheeks. No. It was one thing thinking it, quite another to say it, and even more far fetched to think that it could possibly happen in person, that this would be reciprocated. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her legs together, squeezing out the last drop of magic, pushing whatever the hell this was out of her system. Enough, Regina. Enough. Whatever this was, it was dealt with. It was done.

She sighed heavily, then sank beneath what was left of the bubbles, trying to shut out the growing sense of doom.


	4. Chapter 4

Regina drummed her fingers against the smooth walnut wood of her Mayor's desk in irritation, staring darkly at the three short men hovering in front of her.

"So what exactly do you expect me to do about it Leroy?" she snapped. "If you have an issue with Zelena, take it up with her."

The dwarf's oversized brows knitted together angrily, his axe swinging loosely by his side. "We _tried_ that."

"And?"

Doc opened his mouth to speak, then clasped his hand over his face as a small blue bird flew out instead of the expected reply. A perfectly formed eyebrow arched up in surprise. A size 2 shoe stomped on the floor with frustration. Leroy raised his hands and squared up to Regina.

"See?! Ain't none of us going to talk to her again, not unless we want bunny rabbits and frogs legs falling out of our mouths!" He prodded the front of her desk with a fat, stumpy finger. Regina fought back the urge to prove her sister the easy going one. "We're _not_ mining fairy dust for her, end of story. She's got no right coming down into our mines, she's got no right using magic on us, trying to intimidate us, trying to make us do what she wants. _And_ she's rude! Insulting us about the size of our feet, about our you-know-whats… it's not dignified! You need to tell her to stop!"

Regina threw up her arms. It really wasn't worth the hassle. "Alright! Geez. I'll speak to her."

"And Doc?"

Regina cast a withering look over the afflicted dwarf. "Don't worry, I'll get her to reverse it."

"Thanks."

Turning on their undersized heels, the three miners took their leave, Regina momentarily glad for the peace and quiet. Momentarily, because as had been happening all week, once she had more than a few seconds to herself, her mind automatically returned to a subject she'd spent days trying to erase from her memory, a subject that made her temperature rise and her body crave all sorts of inconceivable things.

Since that night in the bath, since the moment the crescendo between her legs had spilled over, a symphony of delicious explosions erupting throughout her entire being, she'd been able to think of nothing else than Emma fucking Swan. In bed, in the shower, at the breakfast, lunch and dinner table, driving her damn car… if there wasn't something there to distract her attention, to fill her thoughts, then without fail she found herself front and centre of some heated daydream that involved the ministrations of the Dark One. And if the daytime wonderings were hot, her dreams come nightfall were practically incendiary. She'd woken up more than once on the verge of coming, her body alive, her nerves singing, muscles deep inside twitching, convulsing, crying out for touch. She hadn't given in though, she hadn't capitulated. She couldn't. What would she be inviting in if she did? What need would she be feeding, and what would she expect to satiate it? Better to nip this thing in the bud now, while it was still in its infancy, before it became some raging monster that drove her past the edge of sanity. Besides, quite apart from everything else, there was Robin to take into consideration.

Robin. She closed her eyes and pictured the man who had for the past few months, years even, been the one to drive her to distraction. The man who was her one true love, who even after all this time, all these mishaps, had still managed to make his way to her. Robin. The man who now excited her about as much as Leroy did.

She banged her fist down on the arm of the chair in anger. There was magic at work here, without a doubt. Why else would she suddenly lose interest in the person who was supposed to be her happy ending, purely for nothing more than a physical and mental infatuation with someone else? It didn't bother her that Emma Swann was a woman. Regina had had her fair share of lovers of both sexes, drawn to sexual energy and power rather than what did or did not lie between a person's legs. Perhaps that was it? Power. Sexual energy. There was no denying that as the Dark One Emma Swann practically fizzed with raw sexuality. Dominance over others had always been a huge lure to Regina, the need to either capitulate or capture and conquer driving her pheromones into a frenzy. And who better to dally with than a Dark One? She'd had feelings for Rumpelstiltskin when he was her mentor. It wasn't such a far stretch of the imagination to think that Emma might have the same hold over her as well. Yet this was different. This was far, _far_ stronger than anything she'd had with Rumpel. This was intoxicating, debilitating, suffocating. This had her constantly on edge, sizzling with need, quivering with anticipation.

 _No_. She pushed herself up from her chair, smoothing her jacket, ignoring the spitting rush of electricity as her fingers brushed against the swell of her chest. She was stronger than this. She was Regina, the Evil Queen, she'd cursed an entire Enchanted Forest for fuck's sake. She was not going to be undone by whatever it was that Emma Swann was doing to her, intentional or not. She flipped open her phone, punching # _2_ on the speed dial.

"Robin?... Yes… Yes, I'm sorry, I've been busy with work… You are?... Yes I'd love that... Ten minutes?… Ok, see you then."

* * *

Robin smiled broadly as she slid smoothly into the booth opposite him.

"Regina."

"Robin," she breathed, smiling easily at him. He smelt of the open air, of the woods, the forest, trees and earth. It was a good scent on him, one that usually drove her wild. She inhaled deeply. Nada. She pushed niggling doubt to the back of her mind and set her purse down next to her. "I'm so sorry I've been so busy lately."

"It's fine," he reassured her, "really it is. I know what your work can get like." He picked up a laminated menu, scanning it quickly. "I've been rather snowed under myself if I'm honest. The weather's on the turn, the lads are building up the camp to cope."

Why Robin still insisted on living out in the sticks when there were such things as heating, running water and beds, had never particularly made any sense to her. She'd accepted it though, even loved him a little more for it. It was part of his charm. Wasn't it?

"Cheese burger and chips please. Regina?"

He broke through her thoughts. "Sorry! Um… just a garden salad please, dressing on the side, with a sparkling water."

"So I was thinking…" he reached over the table and intertwined his fingers through hers. He may as well have been holding hands with a cold, wet, dead fish, she mused, lifting her eyes to his to give him her full attention.

"Go on."

"I don't have anything planned on Saturday evening, perhaps we could go out for dinner, catch a movie? I could spend the night at yours?"

"What about Rowan?"

"I already spoke to David and Mary Margaret, they said they're more than happy to take him."

"Fantastic." She flashed him a winning smile. "Fantastic. Yes sure! Why not? I'll see if Henry can stay over with them as well, that way we won't be interrupted."

Robin grinned, his eyes darkening at her suggestion. His thumbs rubbed on the top of her hands in soft circles. She willed herself to feel something, anything. She could do this. She really could. She just had to push through, concentrate on what they'd had, what they still had if she could just pull herself together, if she could stop the sensation of her skin crawling at his touch. This was _Robin_ , this was her happy ending, her One True Love.

The bell to Granny's tinkled joyfully. The hairs on Regina's neck stood up on end. Her fingers automatically tightened around Robin's, the man taking it in completely the wrong way. He lifted her fingers to his lips, planting soft kisses along her knuckles, the bristles of his whiskers tickling irritatingly across her skin. She could feel the pull, feel the strength of magic calling out to her, wrapping its arms around her on powerful undercurrents that completely surrounded her. She threw her gaze down to the checker clothed table, gluing her eyes to the red and white patterns, refusing to look up, refusing to give in. Between her legs a swirling pool of heat and wetness drummed against her sex, a sudden force of electricity building up out of nowhere, the desire to be filled up, to be fucked, to be taken over almost too much to bear. With magnetic force, with unavoidable and unrelenting command, she found herself staring over to the corner of the diner, over to the jukebox, over to the door to the bathroom, over to the Dark One, straight into the malevolent eyes of a smiling Emma Swann.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma Swan no longer just 'entered' a room, much less a packed public place like Granny's. Now that she was the Dark One, whenever Emma Swan entered any space, it was very much 'the affair'.

First, of course, there were the reactions to her. They ranged across the entire spectrum of human expression, from downright disgust to caged curiosity, from nervous fear to morbid fascination. Sure, she'd always attracted attention before this; in her previous incarnation as the Saviour how could she not? All eyes had been on her from the minute she'd rocked up in this damned - quite literally damned - town. But this was different than before, so much different. Then she had been welcomed with open arms. Now? Not so much. Now she could feel the eyes boring into her back, hear the muffled whispers behind hands and underneath breath. She knew what mothers were going to say to their little ones even before they opened their mouths, their fearful warnings landing on terrified ears. Uncertain, unsure, recoiling, battling a conflict of emotions as they tried not to stare at their former friend, now potentially foe. Funny how people can turn on you once you're no longer useful to them. Or happen to harbour a growing penchant for killing them. No matter. She shrugged it off with increasing indifference. They were becoming more and more like small, insignificant creatures with every passing day, just beetles, ants, creepy crawlies scurrying around underfoot, in the way, nothing more. Let them talk, let them whisper, let them stare. Let them fear her.

Because that was the other thing that happened when she 'entered' a room. Especially a packed public space like Granny's. The more the people of Storybrooke did fear her, the more powerful she became, feeding off their trembling energy, fueling herself exponentially on their growing terror. She could see it, hear it, taste it and smell it, reach out and wrap herself up in it. It spilled out of their mouths in a silky silver river, pooling around her feet, swirling at her ankles. It oozed from their pores, golden and glowing, flowing out to her, wrapping itself around her like a warm blanket, settling on her skin like some strange, shimmering armour. Every look, every stutter, every stammer and flinch; dread was more attractive to her now than friendship and family had ever been. The entire town vibrated to a low frequency, a hum that buzzed in sync with her heart beat, rhythmically attuned to her very existence. It flowed from realm to realm, across dimensions, this ancient power that thrived in the darkest of places, an undercurrent of magic that all ran to one nebular point, one nexus of energy, one singular, tightly coiled, ever increasing focus of pure dark magic: Emma Swan.

As the bell to Granny's tinkled joyfully above her head, all this and more should have been running through Emma's head. A small smile should have twisted itself upon her lips at the way the Dwarves shifted nervously on their bar stools, fat little hands clutching tight around their half full steins. A silent, unspoken threat would have been thrown in the direction of those meddling fairies, judgemental eyes trained upon her, not enough fear in them for her liking. A seat, maybe two, three or four, should have been hurriedly vacated for her, probably out of fear or possibly hoping to ingratiate themselves; she didn't give a shit which one as long as they moved out of her way. And they did, of course they did, but that was not why she was here today. She ignored the usual pulsation that glimmered and flickered to life across the floor as she entered the room. There was only one reason Emma Swan had entered Granny's today, and that was the dark haired woman sitting at a booth across the room who was giving off such incredible sexual energy that the Dark One was close to losing control.

She'd felt it all week, ever since that night outside Regina's window. Something had happened, something that she hadn't planned on, something that she hadn't intended or actioned. Magnetic almost, unfettered now. She could no less control it than she could the darkness inside her. Regina flowed to her and Emma knew her magic more than matched it. Most of the time it was a low, constant throb, an undulating current of electricity that whispered to her, called out her name just as the Mayor had in her sleep. Once, the night afterwards, it had almost knocked her from her seat, spitting purple fury crowding her room, rushing at her body, twisting around her, writhing in its form, luxuriating across her limbs, seeking out her most pleasurable places until without warning, without hesitation, it recoiled and sank back, leaving her breathless and confused.

As she walked past Regina she felt its irresistible pull, watched almost mesmerized as the woman's magic reached out to her, tantalisingly within reach. Watched with scorn as Robin's lips brushed against Regina's fingers, saw the other woman's knuckles whiten, knowing the reason why. Leaning back against the jukebox, ignoring every other person in the room, everything focused in like tunnel vision on one singular point, her own magic now boiling like a raging rapid around her as she willed the other woman to look up. The small smirk that danced across her lips as she watched the Mayor fight against the urge, physically steeling herself against surrender. If you want me Regina, look up. See me. _See me_. She focused on the other woman, sent out the silent command, her entire body alight, lust raging within her, desire crackling furiously around her. The triumph, the dark elation as inch by inch, succumbing to her need, Regina finally raised her eyes to meet her own.


	6. Chapter 6

"What the _hell_ do you think you're playing at Swan?" Regina hissed into Emma's ear, her body just inches away from the Dark One and playing merry havoc with Emma's concentration.

"What the hell am _I_ playing at?" countered Emma. "I could say the same thing to you."

"Really? We're going to play it that way?"

"We can play it anyway you want Regina," she said, her voice low, her eyes glinting dangerously. "All you have to do is ask."

Regina's face blazed with ill concealed fury, rage mounting by the second. It only served to make her even more incandescently beautiful, and it was all Emma could do to stop herself seizing the other woman by the throat and pinning her against the nearest wall. She shook her head at the thought, trying to concentrate on the angry words spitting from out from between those plump, luscious, delightfully sinful lips. She wondered if Regina's other lips were just as full and juicy...

"You think you can play with me? You think you can use magic against me? Are you even _listening_ to me?"

Emma grinned viciously. "Not really, no. I was far too busy imagining how my tongue would feel pressed up between your legs."

Even Emma, in all her Dark glory, didn't see the stinging blow that landed squarely across her jawline coming. From the shock resonating in her eyes, neither did Regina. From the extraordinary exhalation of air let loose by pretty much everyone seated in the diner, neither did the now very frightened assembled populace of Storybrooke. The sound of the resounding slap rang out violently against the four walls of the diner, hanging there for what felt like an eternity, echoing hollowly against the backdrop of their collective shock. For a split second, everyone froze, breath held.

The spell was broken by a deep growl. Emma's hand flew to Regina's upper arm, dragging the former Evil Queen unceremoniously into the bathroom and hurling her against the white tiled wall, the door slamming shut behind them. A ferocious banging started up on the other side.

"Regina? Swan! If you hurt her, so help me…"

Emma flung the door open, grabbing Robin's upraised fist in her own, seizing on whatever remaining shred of good nature she had left. Teeth gritted, she stood nose to nose with the reformed thief. "So help _me_ Robin, but if you don't stop that in _fer_ nal banging I will rip you limb from fucking limb and spread your parts across the four corners of Storybrooke. Do I make myself clear?"

Though he tried to square up to her, the man visibly quailed. "Like crystal…" he whispered angrily, digging deep for any scrap of bravado that might save his ego.

Emma gripped his bristled chin between her fingers. "Go back and eat your burger like a good boy. You can have her back when I've finished with her." Robin's eyes darted over Emma's shoulder to where Regina lay slumped on the floor, visibly wincing as she rubbed the back of her shoulder. Emma tightened her grip. "Do I need to tell you a second time?"

He shook his head. "No."

Emma smiled mirthlessly. "What are you waiting for then?."

Robin backed off, feet moving with faltering steps back to where he'd come from. Emma closed the door on him, waving her hand across the lock, effectively shutting out anybody else that might stupidly think of interrupting.

She turned to face Regina. The Mayor pushed herself up off the floor, smoothing her skirt down over her toned thighs, tugging at the bottom of her jacket, readjusting the expensive fabric that sat atop her body so fucking well. Emma toyed with the idea of removing it anyway. Seeing the resolute anger still swirling in the dark pools of Regina's eyes, she ignored the notion, instead leaning back against the wooden door and crossing her arms over her chest.

"You know I wouldn't let anyone else get away with that."

Regina scowled. "I'd hardly call throwing me up against a solid wall "getting away with it"."

Emma smiled lazily. "Oh honey, if I threw you up against a wall you'd know about it."

The Mayor cast a dry look across the room. "Really, Swan?"

With a blink of an eye the Dark One crossed the room, reappearing in a volatile swirl of black smoke next to Regina, the Mayor's magic instantly reacting to her own. She smirked, raising a finger as if to touch Regina's face, holding back at the last second. "What makes you think you can strike the Dark One and get away with it Regina? What makes you think that there won't be consequences to your actions? You think just because we were friends before, that it affords you some sort of protection from me? That you can raise your hand to me in front of a diner full of people and I'm just going to let you get away with it?"

"You think I'm scared of you?"

Emma licked her lips, her eyes narrowing. "You should be, Regina."

Regina fairly snarled at Emma, the deep scar that sat above her top lip quivering with indignation. Emma wondered what it would feel like to run the tip of her tongue across the pale groove. Movement from Regina bought her back to reality.

"Well sorry to burst your bubble dear, but I wasn't afraid of the last Dark One and I'm not afraid of this one either." The Mayor tore herself away from the wall, stalking over to the bathroom door and waving her hand at the lock. Purple magic fizzed and popped against the brass handle, sparks flying uselessly.

"You know you're no match for me," Emma said dryly.

"Unlock this door. Now!"

"Or what?" Emma cocked her head. "What will you do Regina? All I did was walk into Granny's Diner. It was you who came up to me, it was you who slapped me in the face. I've done nothing." Regina huffed, folding her arms angrily across her chest. Emma ignored her, moving slowly towards her, circling her like a lioness cornering its prey. "It's your magic that's been calling out to me all week, your sorcery that's been _begging_ for my attention, not the other way around. Tell me Regina, did it feel good to think about me when you made yourself come?" The other woman paled. "Did you really think that I wouldn't know, that I wouldn't feel it? Fuck Regina," she hissed slowly, "you almost knocked me down. What was it like?" She was inches away now. "How did you imagine me fucking you? It was me fucking you, wasn't it Regina. It was me on top, me inside you, my fingers that made you come like a little bitch?"

"Stop it!" Regina hissed, the delicate skin of her throat moving nervously. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? All week I've been able to taste your desire. Do you know what it's like, to be able to taste the reckless lust of another woman?" A low, dangerous laugh. "You've been trying so hard, so hard to make it stop, haven't you."

"Me?" The words were almost a squeak. She marvelled how Regina could still look so gloriously sensual while getting frustrated with herself. Her cheeks blazed with anger and embarrassment as she stared the Dark One down furiously. " Don't try and turn this around on me Swan! You put some sort of spell on me! You enchanted me! I was perfectly happy with Robin."

Emma scoffed. "Don't lie to me. Don't lie to yourself either. You've no more interest in that bearded fool that I have." She shook her head, malicious delight shining in her eyes as she finally pressed her body up against the Mayor, her form melting perfectly against the other woman's soft curves, thrilling at the shiver of bewitchment that jolted both of their bodies. "Does Robin do that to you?" She leaned in, her lips brushing against the soft shell of Regina's ear. "Does Robin make you shake, doe he make your stomach flip? Does he make you wet Regina?"

The Mayor groaned, her head resting back against the cold tiles of the wall, her tongue snaking out nervously to wet dry lips. "Stop it," she whispered.

"If I slid my hand between your legs, would you be wet for me now? If I asked you to, would you spread yourself open right here, right now, so I could slip my fingers inside you and take you?"

Regina twisted her head away but made no more attempt to move. "Emma, please…"

"Please? Please what?" When Regina said nothing, Emma's hand shot up to her neck. Regina gasped, eyes flying open as Emma's fingers squeezed against the delicate flesh. "Please kiss me? Please touch me? Please _fuck_ me?" She moved in front of Regina. "Tell me what you want, Regina. Admit it. I'm not going to take it from you without your permission. I can leave you here, wet and wanting on the bathroom floor, your pussy thundering, your body desperate for me, unsatisfied, _another_ night of wanting, waiting, anticipating. Or…"

Her fingers moved up from Regina's neck, tracing across her jawline, watching enraptured as Regina's skin reacted to her touch. Her eyes locked onto the Mayor's lips, the lower one trembling, her mouth opening oh so slightly, as if acquiescing. A soft moan slipped out, she wasn't sure who from, traveling across the air between them, snaking its way, pulling them together across the short distance. The moan deepened as their lips met, Emma's cold lips coming into contact with Regina's soft, full, white hot pillows. At first hesitant, with almost fluttering uncertainty, the kiss gradually deepened, slowly melting into one another, desire soaking itself in satiation. Trembling, shaking, their bodies now crushing up against each other as the heat of thick, heady desire overpowered them both. Wanton, Regina's tongue slid across the top of Emma's lips, flickering, questioning, teasing and tasting, then diving into her mouth. Emma thought she would go insane at the sensation, her own duelling back, claiming Regina as her own. Her hands slid around the back of Regina's neck, desperate to keep her there, her fingers pushing up into the thick dark locks as pretence slipped its mask and lust rose unchained between them.

Suddenly she found herself falling roughly backwards, their embrace rudely, forcefully broken. Her eyes snapped open, locking onto Regina's shocked countenance.

"This is wrong!" Regina stammered, hands pushing back through her hair in distress. "This is all wrong. I'm with Robin!"

" _Fuck_ Robin!" Unable to control herself, and frankly not giving a fuck if anyone outside could hear her, Emma stared back at Regina in confusion. "All week you've wanted this, all fucking week! I'm the Dark One Regina, you can't hide it from me."

"You're right," Regina shot back angrily. "You are the Dark One. Don't you think I know exactly what you're capable of? You think I would willingly want to get messed up with you? That my feelings for Robin would suddenly just dissipate and I'd coming running into your arms? Into your _bed_?" She almost laughed, pacing around the confined space in agitation. "What the hell was I thinking? That kiss… that kiss…" She shook her head.

"That kiss what?" Emma said darkly, daring Regina to finish her sentence.

"That kiss was _nothing_!"

"You don't mean that!"

"Yes. Yes I do. This..." she waved around her, "this is just nothing more than an illusion, a spell, an enchantment that you've conjured up to trap me. None of it is real. You're messing with my emotions and I won't allow it Emma. I won't let you. Dark One or not, I don't care."

The betrayal, the lies that flowed from Regina's lips, lips that just seconds ago had been hers... Emma had never felt fury like it, never experienced such a chilling anger. It went beyond anger, to a place of almost serene, ice-cold calmness. All that desire, all that fire, all that passion, disappeared in an instant. Everything inside her compressed, constricted, winding itself down into a minute ball of dense, searing rage, burning a hole at the base of her stomach and leaving a vacuum of emotion that hung in the atmosphere like Regina's slap. She couldn't even look at Regina, couldn't be responsible for her actions if she did.

Instead, she moved to one side, undoing the magic holding the door shut. "Get out." There was no movement from Regina. She clenched her fists tightly down at her sides. " _Get out._ " Still nothing. _So help her_... As the last thread of her subconscious awareness managed to engulf her in a dank, spiralling plume of smoke that took her away before she did something she couldn't undo, she finally managed to look deep into Regina's eyes. Wide open, anguished, and filled with very, very real fear. The calmness finally broke, a suffocating tidal wave of madness erupting up from her stomach, tearing through her throat and out of her mouth with a strangled scream.


	7. Chapter 7

"Drink this."

Granny unceremoniously shoved a glass filled to the brim with hot toddy into Regina's shaking hands. She took it from the large woman gratefully, cupping it between her fingers and raising the steaming liquid to her lips, thankful of something, anything to hide her face with. She was milliseconds away from completely breaking down into floods of tears in front of an entire audience of Storybrooke residents and it was not something she was prepared to let herself do.

"I'm so sorry Regina!" Mary Margaret's lower lip was wobbling, her eyes awash with guilty tears. "I don't know what's gotten into her!"

Regina shook her head, dark locks tumbling across her face, the colour still lost from her cheeks, flesh pale and wan that just moments ago had been soaked with the torrid flush of unbridled lust and passion. "It's not her fault Mary Margaret. It's the dark magic inside her, it's taking more and more control of her with every day."

"That's no excuse!" Robin growled.

"It's not an excuse!" Regina snapped sharply, before sighing heavily, raking one hand through her hair, trying to soothe herself back to some semblance of normality. She looked at her lover, she looked at the man who by all rights should be the one whose arms she wanted to fall into right now, the one whose chest she yearned to lean against, the one whose neck she felt desperate to snake her arms around. What the hell was happening to her? She shook her head, exhausted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine, it's fine," Robin cooed, placing his hands on her thighs and rubbing up and down them soothingly. "You've had a run in with the Dark One…"

" _Emma_ ," Mary Margaret said pointedly, shooting Robin a severely dark look. "She's not the Dark One, she's Emma. My daughter. _Your_ friend."

Robin rose, frowning. "I'm sorry Mary Margaret, but we're so far from your daughter and my friend right now it's almost a fucking joke. You need to start facing facts. That… _thing_ isn't your daughter, it's not Emma in there, not any more. That there is dark magic, pure evil. Sooner or later we need to stop thinking about how we're going to save Emma Swan and start thinking about how we're going to stop the Dark One. Otherwise someone's going to get hurt, or worse, killed."

"How can you even _say_ that!"

Regina rose up swiftly, placing her body between the two of them, arms outstretched to keep them apart. As diminutive as Mary Margaret was, Robin would do well to remember she was in actual fact Snow White, and not averse to throwing her weight around with more than a little effectiveness. If he carried on, Robin was likely to sport a broken nose at the very least. "Enough!" She threw a warning glance Robin's way. "Enough. This isn't a conversation to be had, now or in the future. Emma wouldn't give up on us, so we won't give up on her. There'll be no more talking of ending the Dark One. That's not on the agenda." Robin opened his mouth to protest. "Not. On. The agenda. Understood?"

His muted anger was enough of an answer for now. She took it gladly. All she wanted to do was get out of this damn place and hide away in a darkened room somewhere.

"Robin, can you sort the bill please?"

He nodded. "Sure."

She turned to Mary Margaret. "You need to find Emma. I don't like what Robin said but one thing was true. The darkness is taking hold of her much faster than we anticipated. If we don't figure out how to help her, and soon, then I fear we might lose her altogether." She saw the weight almost physically descend on the small woman's shoulder, the accompanying sigh burdened and heavy. She placed her hands on each shoulder, giving her a subtle squeeze. "We will save her Mary Margaret, whatever it takes, whatever we need to do. I promise you that much."

The other woman smiled weakly, trying to muster what was left of that famous hope. "Thank you Regina. I'm so sorry if she hurt you."

"She didn't. I'm made of stronger stuff than Robin seems to think." She glanced over at her partner, currently fiddling with coins on the counter in front of a less than impressed Granny. A light frown settled on her brow, wiped away immediately lest Mary Margaret notice. "Just find her, make sure she's ok."

"Ready?" said Robin, putting his arm protectively around her shoulders. She nodded, trying not to wince at the contact. "Let's get you home then."

* * *

The curtains to the living room were drawn close, daylight shut out, the relief of darkness and shadow thoroughly welcome. Regina pinched at the bridge of her nose, fingers pushing down and around into the taut muscle, trying to loosen the tension that had been building since her altercation with Emma.

' _Altercation'_. _Really, Regina? That's what you're going to call it? An 'altercation'?_

She groaned, earning a pause in the tinkle of ice against crystal as Robin busied himself in the corner of the room making her a drink.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine," she growled, trying to keep as much irritation as she could out of her voice. "Just tired."

 _Why the hell is he here?_

"Perhaps an early night would do you good."

Regina nodded her agreement, holding out her arm to take the proffered tumbler. Amber liquid swirled lazily around inside the glass, its heady, spicy aroma wrapping itself around her nostrils, working its way along her senses, imbibing her with an immediate sense of calm. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drown slightly in the sensation. The sudden motion of Robin sitting down on the chaise longue bought her out of it.

 _You could just poof him into another dimension, you know._

"Here's to surviving an encounter with the Dark One."

Robin raised his glass to hers, clinking the thick crystal together sharply and without waiting for her consent to his sarcastic toast, downed his drink in one swift, angry movement.

 _You think he could ever give you an encounter like that Regina? You think he could make you feel the way that she did? Has he ever made you feel like that? And from just a kiss! Imagine what she could do to you if you let her in, if you really let her in!_

Regina sipped her drink slowly, shutting up her internal monologue, gazing at her lover steadily over the rim of the glass. Suddenly he seemed like a complete stranger to her. "It's not her fault Robin."

His fingers twisted against the soft bristles of his moustache, his eyes refusing to meet hers, displeasure swirling in them at her continued defense of Emma Swan. He rose, moving across the room, hand seizing around the neck of the decanter just as Emma's had around her neck only an hour ago. She fought off the sudden thundering contraction within her core.

"You know," Robin started suddenly, turning on his heel, leaning back against the deep mahogany sideboard, glass dangling between his fingers that pointed at her with just the subtlest hint of accusation, "you still haven't told me what happened in there."

Regina looked at him guardedly. "What do you mean?"

 _You know exactly what he means._

"You still haven't told me what happened in the bathroom between you and Emma. And why you went in there in the first place? And why you slapped her? Like, what the fuck Regina? What's going on?"

 _Tell him!_

"There's nothing going on, Robin."

Robin moved off his perch, back to the sofa, sitting down opposite her, looking her square in the eye. It was all she could do to look back at him.

"You need to be honest with me Regina. We've been through too much, come too far for us to have any more secrets, to hide anything else from each other. I thought we put all that behind us." He put his drink down on the side, then took hers and did the same. Taking her hands in his, he sighed with what she could have sworn was a hint of patronisation. "We always waste time trying to figure things out by ourselves, not wanting to burden the other, but it always end up with us having to tell the other, doesn't it?"

She nodded.

"If Emma is threatening you, if she's trying to hurt you, if she has something over you, some kind of magic that she's using to control you with… dammit Regina, if you're just trying to protect _me_ … you _have_ to tell me, whatever the consequences." He bought her hands to his lips, kissing them just as he had in the diner before Emma fucking Swan had walked in and destroyed her known world with hers. Unwittingly, he carried on talking. "We're stronger together Regina, we always have been. Together we can defeat whatever she throws at us. You just have to tell me, you just have to be honest with me."

 _Yes, Regina, tell him! Tell him how her kiss was like nothing you've ever experienced before. Tell him how her lips made you think of things you've only ever dreamt of in your very darkest moments. Tell him how you can still see her face, how you can still smell her scent, how you can still feel the touch of her hands on your skin. Tell him how it's taking everything you have to stop from calling out her name once, twice, three times a fucking charm. Tell him Regina! Be honest with him, be honest with your damn self for once."_

Regina took her hands from Robin's, pressing the heels of her palm against her eyes in a pointless attempt to shut Robin and her inner self out. Her whole body was on fire, limbs trembling as magic and desire continually rippled through her. Who was she trying to kid? She had experienced true love's kiss before, more than once, but this… this was on an entirely different level. She had come alive like never before under Emma Swan's lips, she had felt her body and soul entwine themselves around the other woman as natural as sun rise was to the morning. She had ached for her before; now every fibre of her being, every thread of muscle, every singing sensation cried out against her for having stopped them mating with the Dark One. Her own magic spat furiously against her, taut, rigid and unsatisfied, coiled up with distemper and riddled with unsatiated, burning passion. If only she could release it! If only she could loosen it, unburden the tension like a volcano spitting out its ires if only to free itself from constant torment! As Robin reached out towards her, she rose from the chair, raging against herself as much as anything else. He looked up at her, questioning. She nodded, just once, barely there, but enough to transmit her meaning. Her fingers entwined in his.

"Come upstairs," she said, her voice barely a whisper. A broad, lopsided grin fell across his face, the man getting to his feet at his Queen's behest, following her up the stairs, into her bedroom, her most private sanctuary...


	8. Chapter 8

"Mom!"

The sound of Henry's voice as he burst through the front door brought forth an undeniable, unassailable tsunami of relief. In an instant, the ugly lead weight in the pit of her stomach that she'd been fighting so hard to ignore lifted, her son appearing breathless at the foot of the staircase, bent double from the pure exertion of tearing through Storybrooke at pace.

"Henry?"

Head almost down to his knees, the teenager held up a hand, waving briefly in mid air as he fought to regain his breath and composure. Regina used the incident to slip free of Robin's arms, barely a word uttered to the man as she moved back down the stairs to her heaving offspring below.

"Are you ok?"

Henry righted himself with some effort, pushing the dark locks from out of his eyes and coughing, spluttering violently. When he finally connected eyesight with his mother, Regina saw worry etched across his face.

"Are you? I saw Grandma, she told me what happened with Emma!" He looked her up and down quickly. "Did she hurt you?"

Regina shook her head. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Henry." Robin came down the stairs behind her now. She couldn't hide the brief shiver of irritation that ran through her, Henry shooting her a quizzical look. "Your mother's fine."

"What happened?" Henry's gaze was aimed squarely at Regina, her son making sure she knew he expected nothing less than the truth. What to tell him? That she and Emma had kissed? That she'd made out with the Dark One? That she'd wanted to do more than just make out? She _couldn't_ tell Henry the truth, and Henry would know full well she was lying. For fuck's sake. Why was nothing ever easy in this damn town? She'd have to give him some bastardised version of events, something that at least contained a nugget of the truth that might satisfy his curiosity. It'd have to have some truth to it; her son had annoyingly inherited his other mother's infamous bullshit detector.

"Come," she said, taking his hand and pulling him to the living room, ignoring the fleeting look of annoyance that flickered across Robin's features. Sitting down on the sofa, she faced him, hands in his, body square on, relying on as much false body language as she could muster. "Henry your mother's not herself right now…"

"You're telling me!" Henry scoffed.

Regina shook her head. "That's not fair Henry," she chided gently. "You know the reason why she's like this, the reason she's the Dark One. It wasn't to take the darkness's power, it wasn't for selfish reasons, not like other Dark Ones, not like Rumpelstiltskin. If your mother hadn't have jumped in when she did, you might very well be having this conversation with her instead of me." She frowned slightly, willing to admit one particular truth to them both. "You probably wouldn't even be having this conversation if the dark magic had gotten hold of me." She shuddered, closing her eyes. "I dread to think what might have happened."

"You would have fought it," Robin butted in unasked.

She barely held back the tut. "I wouldn't. You know I wouldn't."

"You've changed, Regina."

She couldn't help the laugh that rose from her delicate throat. "Not that much!"

"None of that matters," insisted Henry impatiently, glaring at Robin. "The fact is that she _is_ the Dark One, and for some reason she wants to take it out on _you_! What happened at Granny's?"

"Yes, you haven't actually said," Robin said pointedly. He had perched himself on the tall arm of the chaise longue, effectively making the conversation a threeway one. Would that she could be anywhere else!

"Look nothing actually happened. She got pissed at me, she got a bit physical, I stood my ground. What more is there to say?"

"She locked you in the damn bathroom!" Robin blew his cheeks out in frustration, raking his fingers through his hair irritatedly. "For fuck's sake Regina…"

"Robin!"

"Oh _come_ on. He's old enough to have heard words like that."

"To be fair mom…"

"There are more pressing matters at hand than whether the lad's heard a few curse words, Regina. Why the fuck did she lock you in the bathroom? What were you arguing about? What's her deal with you? Stop pussyfooting about, stop trying to protect her!"

"I'm _not_!" Regina exploded, standing up, feeling the magic crackle inside of her. Her palms burnt furiously as she fought to keep the fireballs that sprang up from within her on pure instinct. "Be careful Robin," she warned testily.

"Then tell me what the hell is going on!" Robin stood up now, not willing to let her have the physical height over him.

"Henry." She turned to her son apologetically. He nodded his head, understanding. She felt a swell of pride at his maturity, the exact opposite to what the grown man opposite was currently displaying.

"I'll be at Grandma's if you need me."

She mouthed her thanks to him, keeping her eyes firmly on his back as he left the house, shutting the front door quietly behind him. She let loose a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding in before turning back to face Robin. She couldn't lie any longer, not to him, not to herself. Whatever happened from hereon in, however this fucked up situation played out, she had to be honest. Otherwise she didn't stand a chance of coming out the other end alive. She took his hands, guiding him back down to the sofa.

"What's going on, Regina?"

It was so hard to look him in the eyes. How was she supposed to tell him? The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, but pain was inevitable. Did she rip the bandaid off, or soak it in water and hope it just fell off?

"I don't love you any more."

Her mouth made an executive decision while her brain was still deliberating.

"What?" He looked at her, stumped, as if she'd just told him the sky had turned to green.

"I don't love you any more." She said it slowly, as if reluctant pace might soften the blow. It didn't. She knew it wouldn't. "I'm sorry, Robin, really I am. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Hold on," he almost laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't love me any more? What the fuck? Why? What the hell? You don't love me? Since when?"

"Since… I don't know! Since…" _Since Emma Swan…_ "It just happened, alright?"

Robin flew to his feet angrily. "Alright? _Alright_?! No, I'm not _alright_! You tell me you don't love me, you tell me it just " _happened",_ " he scorned at her, furious, "and then you ask me if I'm alright?" He clutched his hand to his chest. "Fucking hell, Regina, you're breaking my heart!"

Her head in her hands, too scared to look at him any longer, she was overwhelmed with misery. To break someone's heart was the ultimate betrayal, one she'd sworn she'd never do. To hear the pain in his voice, to hear the confusion and the fear as he continued to rail at her, hurt her almost as much as it hurt him. Almost, but not quite.

"I'm sorry!"

"You're sorry?" he spat at her. "Look at me! The least you can do it fucking look me in the eye when you rip my heart out Regina!"

She raised her eyes to his, dreading the connection, tears brimming at the ugliness of the whole situation.

"Is there someone else?" he stammered wildly. "Have you fallen in love with someone else?" Her silence was damning. "Oh!" As he began to weep violently, she rose, moving instinctively towards him, arms outstretched, desperate to placate him, unsure of what to do for the best. "Don't!" He pushed her away, eyes wild, voice trembling with anger. "Don't you dare. You don't get to do this and then try to make it all better."

She retreated back to the couch, watching him through blurred vision, horrified at the repercussions of her lust. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut? Why had she acted on her damned desires? She might not be in love with Robin any more but she still cared for him deeply. To see him in so much pain killed her.

"Is it her?"

The question broke through her thoughts. "What?"

"Is it _her_?"

"It doesn't matter who it is."

His bitter laugh filled the air. "So that's what you were doing in the bathroom."

"No! It wasn't like that. It isn't like that. I haven't…"

" _Spare_ me Regina. Spare me your lies." He paced around the floor in ever decreasing circles. She could see him winding himself further and further into a tightened coil, hurt and pain condensing swiftly into anger and venomous frustration. "All this time. All this _time_! How long?" When she said nothing, he exploded into her personal space, gripping her by the upper arms, shaking her violently. She turned her head away from his fury, weeping. "How _long_ Regina?"

How long had she loved Emma Swan? A week? Maybe longer? Or was it from the very first moment the blonde woman had walked into Storybrooke, disrupting everything she knew, turning her world on its head, breathing life and energy and passion and bravery and… Her eyes widened. Robin let go, pushing himself backwards, stunned.

"Were you ever in love with me?"

She looked at him, looked at him properly, full on, taking him all in, every single inch of him as the weight of unfettered truth hit her with all the force of a bodyslam.

"Unbelievable."

"Robin! Where are you going?"

He cast a long look of disgust at her, a cold sliver of fear descending down her spine. "To talk to someone who isn't afraid to tell me the truth."

Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the house.

 _Fuck._


	9. Chapter 9

Emma inhaled deeply through her nose, eyes closed, fingernails scrabbling in the dirt, barely able to contain the pure rage that furied through her veins, her black blood boiling and rejoicing. The Enchanted Forest around her lay decimated, trees fallen, scattered like leaves in the wind in a strangely beautiful circular pattern. From above, one might have been forgiven for thinking it some vast avant garde art project. Emma, the beautiful, frightening nucleus of such mass natural destruction, crouched on the earthen floor, magic hissing violently around her, pain ripping through her with maddening power.

She had never felt anything like it, never experienced such pure, unadulterated, blinding anger. Every inch of her thrilled, every nerve jangled, every thought process jittered and stuttered as she fought desperately to form the smallest part of clarity. Every breath she took in was ragged and seething, trembling. The darkness flowed into her from the very air around her, energising her like never before. She fed on it, she sucked it in, she embraced it. She let it fill her up absolutely. Agony and grief had taken over from confusion, themselves transformed into a molten lava of violent temper that begged without cease to be released from her physical being.

She threw her head back and screamed again, a wounded howl deep and distressing, energy expectorating turbulently from her body, another round of timber obliterated in the process. The Darkness kissed her hurting soul, crooned softly in her ear, whispered gentle false promises to make everything better. She knew it was lies, she knew it was all one big lie. But she didn't care. She just didn't fucking care. She sank into its rancid, fetid bosom, tears running down her face and into the soil below, killing anything living underneath her.

" _Robin wait_!"

Her head jerked upwards, her entire being on alert, her senses bristling at the immediate, unwanted connection to Regina's voice. Damn her. She stood up wearily, giving herself over to whatever would happen. Fuck the consequences. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the man stumbling out of the brush and looking wildly at the devastation all around him.

"What the fuck?"

"Go away."

Robin turned his gaze on her. The hatred she checked in his look was nothing compared to hers, just human irritation and exasperation that life hadn't gone his way for once. The Darkness blew gently into the shell of her ear, asking her quietly what it might feel like to force her hands inside his stomach and rip his insides out while he stood there, stuttering, stammering with shock. She felt the twisted smile rise up one side of her face.

"You think this is funny? You think all this is _funny_? You fucking bitch!"

"Robin!"

Regina burst through the hole made by Robin, immediately planting herself between the man and the Dark One, arms outstretched, body language nervous, brain quite obviously taking in the huge expanse of magical vandalism that stretched out before her.

Robin roughly shoved her out of the way and even in her current state, Emma's heckles rose on instinct. The urge to take out her most violent fantasies on this fucking fool only grew stronger.

"Robin you need to leave!" Panic ran through Regina's voice, usurping any trace of calm control, the woman more than capable of understanding just what was happening to Emma.

"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you," Robin ground out bitterly, harshly, never taking his eyes off Emma. She swayed from side to side as if tuned into some silent, diabolical lullaby as she regarded him coldly, all human empathy ebbing away. He continued to spit words out furiously, unable to sense the rising danger around him, heedless of his own pathetic state before her. "You'd fucking _love_ that. Leave you alone with her, let the two of you carry on behind my back while the whole damn town laughs at me!"

Again Regina tried to move between the man and the magic, again she put herself in harm's way to save this worthless dotard, this ungrateful, blithering insect, this base _animal_ who got to experience Regina in ways that Emma could still only imagine. The searing stab of misery that lacerated her heart at the thought of his hands on her body, his lips on her lips, fell into the welcoming, growing, cold caress of the Darkness. How could she? How could she allow him such access yet deny her? The Darkness snarled within her, baring its fangs in the deepest pit of her soul, clawing violently at her walls, wretched and foul, increasingly and desperately aroused at the faint but growing scent of its first blood as Emma Swan. Without thinking her hand raised, fingers clenching in mid air, the man dropping to his knees as his windpipe began to crush, suffocating him.

"Emma don't!"

She flexed her knuckles, releasing his throat ever so slightly, allowing just the faintest whisper of air to trickle down his lungs, his eyes bulging, his arms flailing uselessly by his side. Toying with him, playing with him, despising him. Regina came in front of her now, cutting off her line of sight to her plaything. She eyed her with cold, unfettered disparity. Regina placed a hand on her outstretched arm, her tone pleading, her body language submissive, suppliant.

"Emma, please. Please let him go. It's not him you want."

She couldn't stop the arch in her brow, the small, scornful laugh that fled her lips. "You think I want you?"

"Don't you?"

She refused to meet Regina's look, staring through her, her fist shaking as the magic inside grew stronger and stronger as its purpose became ever clearer.

" _Don't you_?"

"What, and I can have you if I let him go?" Now she let the laugh fly free. "My, my, my, you do have ever such an inflated ego, Madam Mayor." She finally granted Regina the courtesy of eye contact. Emma registered the panic and fear brimming out of her, cheeks flushed from chasing Robin through the woods, hair plastered against her cheeks and her forehead, breath tumbling from between her lips in hot, heaving pants. She had never looked more beautiful. The Darkness kicked her swiftly, bringing her back to the moment. She tightened her grip on nothing and Robin screamed, bringing a cruel smile to her face and distress to Regina's. "You really think I need to bargain to get what I want? You think I feel any need to ask your fucking permission to take what I want, when I want it?"

"Then why haven't you already?"

Regina couldn't help the challenge.

"What?"

"Why haven't you already? You're right, of course you are, I know that. I'd be stupid to try and even deny it. If you wanted to take me, you could have already done it by now. You would have. But you haven't. You haven't crossed that line and you know why." Her hand moved from Emma's arm onto her chest, pressing firmly where Emma's dark heart lay.

"Careful Regina," Emma hissed, her gaze finally able to take in Robin as Regina's head moved slightly to the side. His face was deathly pale, eyeballs rolling in the back of his head, arms limp, legs and feet gone from underneath him. It felt so good, so natural to squeeze the life out of himl. With him gone, she could take Regina and do what she wanted with her, to her, have the woman before her in every dark and dangerous way she'd dreamt of, fantasized about.

Yet that wasn't what she wanted. Was it? The Darkness shook its head and grinned. No. That wasn't how she wanted Regina. She wanted Regina to come to her of her own accord. She wanted Regina to ask for her. She wanted Regina to beg for her. She wanted to coax Regina down into the recesses of sadistic pleasure, have her scream and wail and pant and plead and admit wholeheartedly that she loved every single fucking second of it. She wanted Regina to understand, to fully comprehend that every choice she made, every craving she permitted, every deviant vice she accepted; they were all of her own making. It wasn't the Darkness compelling her, it wasn't Emma Swan forcing her, it wasn't the Dark One threatening her. It was just Regina, laid out bare, waiting and wanting and making it happen to herself. Emma wanted to destroy her.

Her fingers let loose, Robin slumping to the ground. She brushed Regina's hand from her chest, allowing contempt to show fully on her face. The other woman looked at her, confusion written across her beautiful visage.

"Pathetic, Regina. Pathetic."

She stepped casually over the unconscious man, clearing a path through the forest with a flick of her wrist, disappearing into its dark heart.


	10. Chapter 10

Regina's first instinct was to run after Emma. Had it not been for the violently sharp intake of breath that rose up from the ground at her feet, she would have done.

"Shit! Robin."

She knelt down beside him, lifting his head carefully into her lap, stroking the side of his face with one hand while the other fished in her back pocket for her phone.

"Nurse Rachet… Mayor Mills… yes… I need an ambulance… the Enchanted Forest… hold on…"

She muttered under her breath, staring around her blankly. She had no fucking clue where they were. She'd run blindly after Robin without thinking, barely taking the time to breath never mind note down significant landmarks on the way. She tapped the smooth screen of her smart phone, bringing up the map service, her fingers drumming impatiently on the side as she waited for it to find her position. Neither use nor ornament, the damn thing told her what she already knew. She was in the middle of fucking nowhere. She looked closer at the images that flickered in front of her. To the top of the screen was the faint line of a road. If she could get them there, she'd be able to figure out where they were.

"I'll call you back… no I'm not hurt... Robin… tell Dr Whale. I'll call you as soon as I know where we are… you too… bye."

She exhaled loudly and looked down at the man laying unconscious and semi-lifeless below her. She stood up, placing his head gingerly on the cold dirt, trying not to inflict any more damage on top of what she and Emma had already done. She shivered slightly at the recollection of Emma, the Darkness so evident in her now, so prevalent and powerful. Though on the surface she recoiled at the thought, somewhere deep down inside her, a part of her long hidden seemed to stir and thrill at it. She pushed it back down, tried to ignore the barely noticeable tug, turned her back on it and focused instead on the person who, just days ago, had been, to all intents and purposes, the fucking love of her life. Had she been of Henry's generation, she would have been well within her rights to utter the letters F, M and L into the nighttime air.

She squatted down, her long, lean muscles flexing, the hours spent in the gym over the past 20-something years about to be put to good use. Pushing Robin's head forward and propping it up with her knees, she shoved her arms roughly under his shoulders and around his chest, lacing her fingers together and preparing to move. She exhaled loudly, then half stood, half dragged, grunting ungracefully into the cold air, putting all her weight into it. They moved a good, healthy, inspirational half an inch.

It was the heels, of course it was. What was she thinking? Apart from the fact that she'd end up ruining a perfectly good pair of Louboutins, there was no way in hell she'd be able to drag Robin over yards of rough terrain in six inch heels. She shook her head, gritted her teeth, and for the second time that night, pulled her shoes off. Now with a heel in each hand and each hand clutching the other, her arms wrapped around Robin's chest, Regina tried again, bending down then pushing upwards and backwards, heaving under the man's dead weight. Again, shy of a few inches, fucking nothing. She sat back down in the dirt on her ass, Robin plonked awkwardly on top of her. Her left Louboutin bore the brunt of her ire, hurled at a small tree stump in front of them in exasperation. Dark One or not, had Emma reappeared at that very moment, the right Louboutin would have found itself somewhere where the sun very definitely did not shine.

She sighed loudly and refound her phone. As much as she hated to concede defeat, there was no way she could pull Robin out by herself. There was only one thing for it. _Fuck you Emma,_ she thought angrily.

"Mary Margaret?... Hi, it's Regina… um yes, yes I am… yes feeling much better thanks… yes I just needed some time alone… Mary Margaret… Mary Margaret… _Mary Margaret_!" Her eyes rolled to the stars peeking between the dark clouds above. "Sorry to be blunt but I don't have time to chit chat. I need your help… I'm in the woods with Robin and I can't get him out… he can't, he's not conscious… no he's still alive… Emma… I'll tell you later… no, I'll tell you later! I need you to track us… because I don't know where we are Mary Margaret, that's why… sorry… it's been a long day… can you?... fantastic… we came in from the woods at the back of my house… that's all I know… well because I wasn't paying attention… _Mary Margaret_!... ok thanks… see you soon."

 _Why_ that woman had to be such perpetual hard work was beyond her.

She returned her phone to her pocket and stared glumly around her at Emma's catastrophic attempt at landscaping, nothing else to do now but wait to be rescued. Her fingers wrapped themselves idly in Robin's curls. His breathing was less shallow now, but he remained out for the count. She could see the faint beginnings of what would ultimately be dark, ugly bruises beginning to form around his neck, the calling card of Emma's fury. She brushed against one lightly, the tips of her fingers hovering above it, barely touching his skin. It was her fault this had happened to him. Yes, he was the one who'd gone roaring off into the woods without thinking things through, but he wouldn't have been acting so rashly had it not been for her. Had it not been for Emma.

Emma. The task at hand had momentarily wiped her from her mind. Now that she'd stopped, the blonde haired entity came rushing back in like the North Wind, filling up every little crevice of consciousness, wrapping around her, whispering sweet nothings into the back of her mind. Would that she could just erase her! Yet she knew without a moment's hesitation that she never would. Given the option of freedom from Emma, given the choice to leave her behind, to never see her, touch her, be near her again… it didn't bare thinking about. Yet the alternative, this dance, this path, this line they were both edging further and further along, what would it cost? As much as she would gain, she would surely lose if she weren't supremely careful. The Darkness that drifted malevolently through Emma's veins would demand purchase for any sliver of happiness. There was always a cost with magic and Regina knew that whatever it was that lay between the two of them, it had its twisted roots sunk firmly within some sort of alchemy. Whether it was light magic or dark, remained to be seen. All she knew was that with the surge of darkness within Emma, something that had been dormant inside the pair of them now raged like a roaring, swollen river, threatening to spill its banks and devastate everything around them. Yet Regina could no longer lie. Not to herself, not Robin, not to friends and family, and not to Emma. If it came to it, she knew she would end up paying whatever dark price she must if that meant having Emma Swan in her life.

"Regina!"

Her head whipped around at the sudden interruption. Coming through from the undergrowth was a motley crew of rescuers, the light from their torches waving in front of them like extendable light sabres. She raised her hand, waving frantically.

"Over here!"

They ran over to her, headed by Mary Margaret, David and Henry in the middle, Zelena rather haphazardly bringing up the rear. All four of them stopped in their tracks, mouths agape, Emma's handiwork stretching out before them.

"Bloody hell," Zelena said in a low voice, obvious admiration woven into her tone.

"What happened?" David demanded, staring at the huge circular gap in the woods.

Before Regina could explain, a groan rose from Robin's lips, consciousness finally seeping back into his brain. The intrepid rescuers' attention switched from one calamity to another. Henry rushed to his mother's side.

"Emma?"

Regina nodded, not saying a word. Her son frowned, his eyes darkening slightly.

"Did she hurt you?"

Regina shook her head vehemently. "She wouldn't." Henry looked away from her, his eyes unable to look at her. She placed a hand on his arm. "Henry, she wouldn't ever hurt me."

"My my sis, someone's certainly got under the Dark One's skin." Zelena was looking down at her with a wicked smile flickering across her lips, eyes dancing mischievously as she saw her younger sibling squirm with discomfort. "Remind me never to piss off Emma Swan."

Regina rolled her eyes, turning her attention to Mary Margaret, who was speaking rapidly into her cell phone. She waited impatiently for her to finish her conversation.

"Well?"

"They're sending an ambulance, they should be here in about 15 minutes. You're not that far from the road."

Relief washed over Regina. Mary Margaret knelt down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder. "He'll be fine Regina, I promise. Doctor Whale will look after him. It could have been a lot worse." She peered at Regina. "What were you doing in here? Henry said you guys had an argument? Was it something to do with Emma?" She looked around with some alarm at the ring of flattened forest around them. "Is there something going on between you and Emma?"

"I don't know."

"Regina," Mary Margaret said softly. "If there is something, I need to know. We need to know. Right now our daughter is caught up in something that's beyond our knowledge, beyond our power. We have no idea how to fight it, no idea how to help her. But if there's something happening between the two of you, if you can see some way in to her, some way to help her, to reach her, to save her, then you _have_ to tell us, you _have_ to have to try."

Regina looked miserably at the floor. "Even if it means losing myself? Even if it means giving into the darkness?"

Mary Margaret placed a hands underneath chin, raising her face until their eyes met. "She would do it for you. She already did."


	11. Chapter 11

Nurse Rachet peppered her with seemingly endless questions. Yes, Emma had strangled him. Yes, he'd been unconscious. No, he hadn't stopped breathing, not totally. For how long? She wasn't really sure. No, she didn't know if he had insurance. No, he wasn't on hers. _No they weren't together_. Well not anymore, any way. _What_? Well damned if that wasn't any of her business!

She slammed the pen down on the reception desk, her mood darkening with every passing second, not giving a single, solitary flying fuck about the quizzical glances turned her way from the Storybrooke residents dotted about the waiting room. She slumped down into a chair next to Mary Margaret, taking the proffered paper cup of canteen coffee.

"Thanks."

She blew into the rising steam with nothing short of frustration.

"You're the only one that can save her, you know that don't you?"

She didn't turn to face her once sworn enemy. "I don't know what you mean."

A small, mirthless chuckle erupted from the woman sitting next to her. "Please, Regina. I'm not stupid. Anyone can see a mile off what's playing out between the two of you."

"Then perhaps you should get your eyesight checked dear."

Mary Margaret turned in the cheap plastic seat, her hand coming to rest on Regina's arm, that stoic, stolid gaze coming to settle squarely on the former Evil Queen. Regina sighed heavily, raising the paper cup to her lips, sipping gingerly on the scalding, muddy liquid that slopped about within, anticipating with irritation the impending lecture in all its sincere, Snow White glory.

"You two have always had a special connection, ever since Emma came to Storybrooke, you can't deny it." Regina went to do just that but Mary Margaret shook her head vehemently, cutting her off. "Regina! Please don't. Not now. I only just got my daughter back, only just got to know her, the amazing, incredible, wonderful woman that she is, that she's grown up to be without me, without David, without her parents. I've lost so much of her life already and then just as I get her back, the Darkness snatches her again. The Darkness that _you_ bought into this world…" There was an unapologetic trace of heavy blame that laced that particular sentence, and Regina shut her eyes against the unfortunate truth. "It feels like I've only had her for a heartbeat and then she's gone again, she's been taken, captured, ruined by an evil force and this time I'm not strong enough to fight it! I can't stop it from taking her! When we've fought evil before, she's been by our side, we've been able to stand up to it together. This time? This time she _is_ the evil, she's the Darkness, the Dark One." Her head sank miserably. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to reach her." The fingers on Regina's arm tightened, squeezing their grip. "But _you_ do."

Regina frowned, pushing Mary Margaret's hand off. "You're reading far too much into the situation."

Mary Margaret shook her head again. "No, I'm not. I don't know exactly what it is between the two of you, and to be honest, that's your business. But what I do know is that aside from Henry, you're the only one that my daughter has reached out to, the only one that she's shown any kind of affection for, any kind of connection to. You think that scene in the forest was for anyone else but you? You think that man lying in the hospital is there because she just happened to be in a bad mood, that he just happened to be in the way? It's you Regina, it's always been you. You can lie to yourself as much as you want but if my daughter stands _any_ chance of coming back to us, it'll be because of you." The woman's hand made an unwelcome, vice-like return to Regina's arm, the iron grip making Regina give Mary Margaret her full attention. "She's saved you more times than I care to remember. She saved you when no-one else wanted to. She stood up for you again and again and again. She's loved you since the moment she met you. She's literally given herself up for you. Are you really going to stand by and do nothing, because you're afraid of the consequences? Because you're _scared_?"

Regina had had enough. She shoved the chair backwards behind her, its plastic feet scraping rudely and loudly on the cheap tiles of the hospital floor, the watery coffee in the paper cup spitting out of its confines and landing in dark, heavy spots on her snow white silk shirt. The brown liquid seeped quickly and easily into the delicate, expensive material, spreading out like an ugly virus, finding each exquisite thread and spreading along it swiftly. "Fuck you, Mary Margaret," she said angrily, throwing the now empty cup into the nearest trash can, brushing the remaining flecks of liquid from her blouse in a futile attempt to stop the damage. She scanned quickly for directions to the rest room.

"Think about what I said!" Mary Margaret called out after her, unable to keep the urgent despair from her voice.

Regina slammed the bathroom door behind her, rage building swiftly. With a wave of her hand, she sealed the entrance against any unwanted intrusion. She ripped at her shirt, buttons flying, the offending material coming loose from her body. Damn that woman! _Which one?_ a smug voice inside her head said. Her temper exploded through the roof at that, making her almost scream out loud in vexation. It took all of her strength not to wrest the sink from the wall and hurl it onto the floor in a fury. Her hands instead balled into fists, her nails digging painfully, almost deliciously into the palms of her hands. Her entire body shaking, she closed her eyes, pacing her breathing, bringing herself back into the room, pushing the magic back down inside of her, centring her thoughts and slowing her heartbeat. Shaking hands leant on the cold porcelain of the wash basin, fingers holding on tightly to the smooth white surface. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was almost unrecognisable, looked like a woman possessed rather than the Mayor of Storybrooke, the Evil fucking Queen! Once more she swallowed down a bitter scream, choosing instead to stare defiantly at her reflection. Her eyes danced wildly, dangerously in front of her. She looked deep into her own dark pools, hating what she saw there, despising what lurked in their depths, waiting for an excuse to come out and play. She had worked so hard, so damn hard to transform herself, to become a better version of who she was, to wipe out the darkness inside of her. And despite all that, despite everything, it remained as deep rooted as it had ever been, twisted around her soul, dormant, only sleeping, lying in wait for just one drop of venomous, malevolent thought to spring it from its sleep, to rouse it from its enforced hibernation. Hot tears sprang up angrily, unbidden. She wiped them furiously with the back of her hand, refusing to show any further weakness. This was all Emma Swan's fault! She hadn't asked the woman to take the Darkness for her, she hadn't invited her to become a martyr. The Darkness had known who she was, the Darkness had sensed its true home, but Emma fucking Swan had snatched it from her, immersed herself in deep expanse of its sordid power all of her own volition. Was it Regina's task to bring her back? Was it Regina's duty? Did Emma even _want_ to be rescued? It was so typical of Mary Margaret, of all of them, to assume that Emma wanted to be set free from the Darkness, wanted to rid the mantle that drove her deeper and deeper into its own belly. The truth was, the Darkness seemed to suit Emma; it made her iridescent. The truth was, yes Regina was drawn to her. She always had been, on some level, there had been a connection since they'd first laid eyes on each other. But now… now Emma drew Regina in like a moth to the flame, helpless, unable to pull away, aware of the certain destruction that lay ahead but willingly defenseless against it. She watched her skin react to just the thought of Emma, she watched her chest rise and fall as her breathing became shallow, watched her tongue flicker out across her lower lips, caught the darkening of her eyes as merely the idea of Emma caused a volcanic reaction deep down inside her. She leaned forward, placing her forehead against the cooling glass of the bathroom mirror.

"Emma Swan…"

She closed her eyes, pressing her skin into the condensation.

"Emma Swan…"

The pulse between her legs quickened, her temperature rose, her mouth went dry, but her resolve, her desire only tightened. Her voice barely a whisper, cracked, ragged.

"Emma Swan…"


	12. Chapter 12

She didn't have to open her eyes to register the other woman's presence. The second the name fell from her lips a third and final time, the energy in the small, confined room shot through the roof. Emma Swan crackled in her veins, caused every single hair on the back of her neck to stand on end, thrust the idea of herself into Regina's sex with quivering anticipation.

"Look at me."

She kept her eyes closed, fearful to open them, petrified of revealing their intention, their want, their need. Her need. Her shuddering, thundering, very apparent need.

"Look at me." There was a brief pause. "I won't ask a third time."

It wasn't a question. Regina's body visibly thrilled at the threatening note in Emma's voice, shamefully betraying her. She lifted her lashes, obediently.

She found herself lost in ice cold, baby blue reflection, unflinching, uncaring, hard and cold. Her resolve flickered, faltered, her determination and bravado of just seconds ago now fading under Emma Swan's distant, mirrored gaze.

"Really, Regina? Another bathroom? Is that your MO? Do you like to get down and dirty and then freshen up afterwards?"

Emma mocked her, dared her to retort, to retaliate, to fight back. Tested her. Regina kept silent, waiting, watching as the Dark One stalked slowly across the confined space, a big cat caged but every bit as dangerous, every inch as deadly.

"Are you mute?" Emma spat. "Have you lost your voice?"

"No," Regina said quietly.

Emma arched an eyebrow. "No, what?"

Regina felt her body temperature rise at the inference. There was a line being drawn, a limit that she was about to step across, willingly. Again the shame flushed scarlet on her cheeks, but she allowed herself to sink into it, to accept it.

"No, what?" Emma repeated, her voice tight with measured anger. Regina imagined Emma taking it out on her, and the shame transformed itself into something much more incendiary that rose from between her thighs.

"No, Emma."

She saw the flash of delight that sparked in Emma's eyes, saw the obsidian centres dilate at her compliance, felt a strange rush at having been responsible for it. Emma gazed at her steadily, taking in her physical state, the dark coffee that stained her shirt, her shirt that now lay open, exposing the swell of her chest and her taut stomach, muscles openly trembling in anticipation of her touch. She tutted, shaking her head slowly, walking across to Regina. Regina could smell the magic between them, could hear it crackling, spitting furiously as the distance between them closed. Emma stopped just inches away from her, standing behind her, gazing over her shoulder into the mirror, their eyes locking, unable to tear away from the other, each one magnetized by the other. Emma's hand slid around Regina's waist, her fingers reaching for the thin material of her shirt, rubbing it softly between the tip of her forefinger and thumb, the coffee stain still damp to the touch. The room felt impossibly small and yet cavernous at the same time, as if the walls were closing in and expanding around her in rapid succession. She tore her eyes from Emma's, watching her fingers gently tracing the silk fabric. With each rotation, each small, circular motion, Regina's need to feel the same against her own skin soared, until she couldn't hold back the small whimper that escaped her lips.

Without a word, Emma let loose the fabric, finally making contact with Regina's bare skin. The Mayor of Storybrooke audibly groaned her pleasure at the simple contact, a flood of arousal sweeping across her limbs, her head falling back and finding its place in the crook of Emma's neck. Emma's fingers danced across Regina's flesh, fluttering against the soft skin of her stomach, slowly teasing a path down across twitching muscle, agonisingly responsive to her touch. Regina was desperate to move, almost frantic to react in kind, guttural sounds reverberating in her throat as an animalistic need rose up from a raging inferno of lust deep within her belly. As Emma's other hand reached up to slowly cup her left breast, it was all Regina could do to remain standing, blind desire crashing over her like a tsunami, rational thought washed away as a natural base instinct took control. She heard the magic calling to her, she felt it wrap itself around her body, gentle, dark and seductive. Emma's breath on her neck, her lips brushing against her skin, waiting to take her, waiting for her to give in. She slid her arms up over her head, her wrists crossing themselves automatically in acquiescence. When she finally spoke, she barely recognised her own voice.

"Please… Emma please…"

The Dark One needed nothing more than her simple plea. A weight of responsibility flew off Regina's shoulders in that second, control given over to Emma, desire placed in her hands, hands that now spun her round and pushed her roughly up against the bathroom door.

"Look at me."

The command was a simple one. With some effort Regina opened her eyes. Emma was watching her, her gaze almost shuddering with a violent hunger, a look so intense that it was all Regina could do not to rip every single stitch of clothing from her body in an instant. A feral smile curled itself up on the corner of Emma's mouth, a predatory aura falling across her, stoking the fire inside Regina until she felt she might go mad with need.

"Do you want this?"

Regina bit her bottom lip, the sharp nip causing an instant reaction below. "Yes." Emma's eyes narrowed. "Yes Emma." Again that flicker of dark delight, again the sensation of her pleasure tied in to Emma's.

"Do you want me?"

She couldn't keep the raw desire from her voice. "Yes, Emma, I want you." She shook her head, dark locks falling over her eyes, her voice now just a whisper. "I need you."

Without a word, just a wave of the hand, Regina's clothes fell from her body. She felt magic wrap itself around her wrists, binding them together, chaining them above her head and to the wall. The sudden, cold sensation of the restroom tiles against her flaming hot skin caused her to gasp sharply, her body automatically thrusting itself away from the wall, her breasts jutting out magnificently as she did so. Her eyes locking on to Emma's, registering the unfettered lust, she felt the wetness seap down her inside thigh, trickling deliciously over her muscle. She had never wanted anything, anyone more.

"Emma please," she begged, straining against her invisible chains, twisting in the unearthly burn, delighting in the pain, offering herself completely to the woman in front of her. "Take me now or I think I'll lose my mind!"

It was the last sentient thought her brain was capable of cataloguing. As the words left her lips, they were caught on the tongue of the Dark One, Emma Swan's mouth crashing onto hers, parting and pleasing, diving inside and taking her over. There was no resistance this time, no shame or argument or need for control. She opened up underneath Emma's kisses, allowed herself to be consumed, lost herself entirely as Emma's hands moved swiftly down the sides of her body, across the curve of her hips, traversing the firm swell of her ass in one smooth movement, pulling her violently away from the way and pushing her sex upwards. Regina's leg's parted automatically, the heady scent of her incredible arousal turning her on even more. She cried out into Emma's mouth, whimpered, begged, pleaded for the other woman to fill the thundering need inside her. Desperation overtook her, wanton, audacious, brazen. In that second, she understood she would do whatever Emma Swan asked her to, would go to lengths unheard of, just to have this woman take her. As the realisation struck her, as her eyes flew open as the true understanding of her character hit with all the subtlety of a sledge hammer, Emma Swan entered her.

The sound that emanated from Regina's being was not of this world. Sliding inside of her, filling her up, Emma's fingers thrust again and again, Regina's body contorting as the Dark One hit parts of her that sent her into overdrive. Fucking Emma just as much as Emma fucked her, her hips roiled, bucked, rolled and heaved, their motions matching perfectly, a crescendo of magic and sensation building up between them. Regina threw her body onto Emma's, her arms tethered to the wall, her legs pushing herself up from the floor, giving as much of herself as she could to Emma. She peered at Emma through the growing haze, hair fallen in front of her view, sweat dripping from her forehead, stinging her eyes. Through the blur, behind the flashing lights that pricked her sight as her orgasm began to build in the molten core of her sex, she searched desperately for the other woman. Their eyes meeting, Emma's pace only quickened, rhyme and reason leaving Regina's brain. She pulled Emma inside of her, the quivering, thundering walls reverberating with every movement, her whole being condensing down into the growing explosion between her legs. She spread them wider, allowing Emma as much access as she could grant her, shamelessly flaunting her writhing body in front of the other woman, dancing on the tips of her fingers, riding her relentlessly, joyfully, ecstatically. Emma's free hand shot to her throat; Regina revelled in the relinquishing of power, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as a violent, torrential orgasm finally ripped through her body. Distorted, her limbs thrashed, her head falling back, mouth open and screaming silent obscenities as lights exploding behind her eyes, her core on fire, Emma still undulating deep inside her. Magic seized her body, thousands of razor sharp kisses fluttering out of every pore, until she thought she could take no more.

Then without warning, it was over. Her wrists suddenly freed, she tumbled to the floor, the loss of Emma staggering her mind, chilling her body, confusing her sex. Still unable to move, riding the relentless crescent of ferocious emotion, she looked around the room, almost wild with a strange sensation of fear, of loss. Emma Swan was gone, no-one in the bathroom but her, scrabbling on the floor like a naked animal. As she began to regain her sense of self, her consciousness, her bodily control, she threw herself into the corner of the room, balled up, arms wrapped around her legs, her mind racing for any kind of logical conclusion. She could find none. Where just moments ago pure ecstasy had raged through her, now there was only the cold, lonely chill of Emma Swan's apathy. Regina Mills hung her head in her hands, blindsided, naked, used, and still very much needing the Dark One.


	13. Chapter 13

The peel of laughter erupting from her lips was deep, throaty and for the first time since she'd become the Dark One, genuine. The smoke cleared in her wake, dark, swirling plumes dissipating underneath the simple swish of her fingertips, the room coming into view, one set of four walls traded instantaneously for another.

Her hand was damp, wet, slick with Regina's juices. She stopped laughing, the sound subsiding into a smug smile that sat contentedly on her face, almost wide enough to rival that of the Cheshire Cat. She lifted her fingers to her face, the scent of the Evil Queen's arousal filling her nostrils, her eyes fluttering shut as she indulged her senses. Pressing the tips of her fingers against her lips, her tongue slipped out slowly, tasting the other woman for the very first time. Salty, like the sea, like a mermaid. She sucked her finger deep into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it, letting her tastebuds experience and memorise the complex notes that made up Regina's sexuality. She couldn't help a second round of laughter bubbling out from her mouth.

" _Damn_!"

As powerful as she was as the Dark One, there was no way she could have predicted that. Not that. _Fuck_ ing hell. Who knew it was going to be that easy to break the Mayor of Storybrooke? Emma Swan had planned on gradually wearing Regina down to the point where she would beg, but Regina had done in moments what Emma thought would have taken months. Dirty little bitch. _My_ dirty little bitch. The thought pleased her immensely. The way Regina had said her name, the way she had complied… fuck it, the way she had _obeyed_. It was almost instinctual, natural. She'd seen the way the Mayor's skin had flushed when the commands had left Emma's lips, watched her make the conscious decision to behave, to relent, to give her power over to Emma. She'd seen how easily Regina's legs had parted for her, had felt how smoothly and without hesitation her arms had placed themselves into bondage. It was beyond hot, it was more than merely 'sexy'. That word felt cheap in comparison to Regina, it didn't come anywhere close to encapsulating just what she had done to Emma in those few seconds. There had almost been a sense of power in her capitulation, in her swift, simple surrender. That she wanted Emma that much; that she trusted her... The Darkness whispered something soft, subtle, sour in her ear.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the bedroom mirror. For the first time, she really looked at herself. The snow white hair. The irony of that was not lost on her. The hard, iridescent glitter that covered her skin, denoting her position within the magical kingdom. Her eyes; always so blue but now cold, steely, hard as flint and just as unmoving. Her head cocked to one side, taking herself in, seeing what others saw, what Regina saw. Catching the unnatural energy crackling just beneath her skin, invisible to the human eye, radiant, almost beautiful to hers, deadly if she wanted, needed it to be.

 _Did_ Regina really trust her? Or was the very real threat that now lay within Emma Swan part of the appeal? Did Regina give herself over to Emma because she knew Emma would protect her, or was it more perverse, more delicious than that? Did she like playing with fire, did she like caressing the flame; did Regina _want_ to get burnt? If Regina really trusted her not to hurt her, then truthfully there was no real fun in that, for either of them, surely.

Emma threw a gentle spark up between her fingers, rolled it absentmindedly between them, watching it splutter and flicker and grow taller and stronger. Again the Darkness slithered into her ear, again it rattled the brief sense of satisfaction, happiness. _Who was in control in that hospital bathroom_? it whispered. _Regina called; you had answered. Regina begged; you delivered_. _Who holds the power?_

The smirk faded from Emma's lips, a deep frown settling on her brow. Had Regina really been broken? Or had she just bent a little, flexed slightly, and got what she wanted all along from Emma Swan? No, Emma mused darkly, no. Regina was not broken. She was not damaged. She had done what she had always done; remained in complete control. Emma stared at herself in the mirror. There was much more work to be done.


	14. Chapter 14

"Ow!"

Regina snapped back into consciousness with a side serving of minor whiplash. Her sister was glaring at her, green eyes blazing, ruby lips pressed against the pale white skin of her forearm.

"What?"

"What?!" Zelena motioned to the saucepan that sat bubbling furiously atop Regina's kitchen hob, brown sticky liquid spitting from its depths. Her hand wafted angrily in its direction. "Flaming hot caramel, that's what! Burnt skin, that's _what_! Sister non compos mentis, that's what!" She stuck her arm out at Regina with proof of her sister's culinary recklessness. "Fuck's sake Regina, what the bloody buggery hell is up with you?"

Regina ducked the question, fishing in the sink for a wet cloth, chucking it at her sister. She ignored Zelena's eyebrow that shot elegantly skywards, and the accompanying huff.

"Sympathetic much."

Regina rolled her eyes, moving back to the pan and turning the heat down. Zelena could be so overly dramatic sometimes. "It's nothing some simple magic won't heal."

"That's hardly the point, love, and you know it." Regina picked up the pan handle and rolled the contents gently, taking care not to crystalize the browning sugar inside. Zelena tutted loudly. "You can pretend you're hard of hearing as much as you like, I can keep this up all night if need be. And don't _I don't know what you're on about_ me, I didn't come down in the last tornado."

"Well to be fair.."

"Smart arse."

Regina couldn't stop the faint glimmer of a smile from tweakimg the corner of her mouth. She knew Zelena would took it as fair game to press a little harder with her line of questioning. Zelena pushed her sister playfully, triumphant at her ability to crack the infamous Mills' resolve. "There she is."

The Mayor of Storybrooke wiped her hands down her apron front, then moved from the pan to the oversized wooden chopping board on the other side of the kitchen island, picking a chef's knife out of the block and rotating it easily in her left palm. Plucking a shiny red apple from the large selection to her right, she made deft, short work of the homegrown fruit, slicing it at almost lightning pace. She could feel Zelena watching her lazily, her back leant against the countertop, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for a suitable gap between slicing to dart in with her fingers and pick off a scarlet-edged, crescent-shaped, crunchy sliver of deliciousness. She popped one in her mouth, eying her sister with no small trace of curiosity as Regina grabbed another apple, then another, and another, working her way through the basket with almost psychotic precision.

"So what gives sis?" Zelena reached out for another slice, letting the air of expectancy drop around them. "You've been all over the place lately, people are beginning to talk."

"People?"

The redhead considered her choice of words. "Ok. Person."

Regina grunted audibly, knife still flying. "And would this person's name happen to start with an 'M'?"

Zelena cocked her head. "It would."

The point of the knife hovered dangerously mid-air for a few seconds, the former Evil Queen automatically thinking of sinking its hilt into something other than crunchy red apples. "And what exactly has Mary Margaret been saying?"

"Oh, you know, this and that." Zelena bit a slice clean in two, munching slowly on it, covertly reading her sister's reactions. The knife resumed its work on the chopping board. "This and that."

"This and that hardly warrants this conversation. Would you care to give specifics?" Regina's lips were pursed, the faint scar above her top lip deepening ever so slightly in her frustration.

"She may have mentioned something about you and a certain Dark One, you and a certain Emma Swan. She may have tried to impress upon me that you might be her dear, darling daughter's Saviour. Sound familiar? Ring any bells?" Zelena leant in and wagged the remaining half of apple slice under Regina's nose. "Ding, dong?"

Regina's batted her sister's hand away with growing irritation. Why could Snow White never leave good enough alone? It was practically a fucking affliction. "Mary Margaret would read something into the ABCs if she could. The woman doesn't know what she's on about."

"She seemed pretty convinced to me."

"She's just desperate to get her daughter back. She'll clutch at anything right now, even the ridiculous, remote notion that I might be the Saviour of the Saviour. I mean, really." She finally looked her sister dead in the eye. "Do _you_ see me being the one to save Miss Swan?"

"So then what's with the major case of distraction then?"

"I haven't been distracted!"

Zelena fairly snorted her derision. "Oh come _on_ Regina! You've been on another fucking planet lately. The last few days, you may as well not have bothered turning up at all! I don't know what's up with you, whether it's the latest incarnation of the Dark One, or something else entirely, but something has got your panties in a twist. One thing I do know," her tone becoming suddenly pointed, "is that it's definitely not Robin."

"What do you mean?"

"Well the man's been in hospital the better part of a week now and you've not been to see him once! And I say man, what I actually mean is your boyfriend. You know, just that really small detail Regina. We find the pair of you in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night, the entire place looks like it's been hit by a nuclear fucking weapon, he's out for the count and yet, have you spoken to me once about it since then? No, you haven't. You haven't bought him up at all. I mean, unless I knew any better, I'd say he _wasn't_ your boyfriend."

Regina put the knife down on the chopping block and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to relieve the growing sense of stress and frustration at her sister's incessant questioning.

"If you must know, no, we're not together any more."

"Aha!"

"Easy Sherlock, it's not exactly this year's greatest mystery. Things haven't been working between us for a while."

"I call bullshit on that one sis. Isn't he the love of your life? It was only a couple of weeks ago that I caught the pair of you all over each other behind Granny's diner! Which, might I add, is something I'll never be able to unsee, so thanks for that."

Regina picked up a clutch of apple slices and began laying them out on a sheet of puff pastry, desperately trying to lose herself in the mundane yet surprisingly satisfying OCD task. "Things change, Zelena."

"What, overnight?"

She could feel the anger mounting in her veins, the crackle of magic just underneath the surface of her skin. If her sister wasn't careful, scalding caramel would be the least of her worries. Things _had_ changed, things had changed beyond compare, and she was no longer the person her sister knew, no longer the woman caught behind the local restaurant with her legs wrapped around Robin's neck. The thought of being with anyone else other than Emma Swan made her feel physically sick, made her head spin with the inability to understand what had ever come over her. The things she thought of now, the deeds that filled her head these past few days, the dreams that scorched through her body every time she shut her fucking eyes… she was a walking wreck, absolutely on the edge, barely holding on to reality. She'd had a taste of what it was like to be taken by this Dark One, just a glimpse of what it could be like to belong to Emma Swan, and then had it wrested away from her in the blink of an eye, left bereft on the bathroom floor like a cheap whore and not a word, not a whisper, not a sighting of her since…

" _HELLO_!"

She came to, blinking rapidly, Zelena's face swimming just inches from her nose. She actually looked genuinely concerned. How could Regina tell her? How could she tell her what dark and sordid images flitted through her brain, how could she let her in on the secret desires she guarded so vehemently? How could she let her sister know that for the first time in a long time, she could once again feel the delicate, soft, burning caress of the Darkness? Just faint, barely there, only a ghost of a whisper in her ear, only a wisp of a touch across her skin. But there, all the same, calling her name once again. She shook her head, refocusing, pulling herself back into reality.

"I'm just going through a shift. Yes, my mind might be wandering off every other second, yes I might seem easily distracted. I do have a lot on my mind but it's not something that I want to talk about…" She held her hand up to stop her sister butting in. "Not just yet. When I do feel ready to talk, you'll be the first, I promise. But right now, I'm not in that place. Sorry."

She finished the swirl of apple slices and drizzled the soft, gooey caramel over the top. Opening the door to the oven, she slid the tart inside, ignoring her sister's stare.

"Well, you know where I am if you change your mind."

"Yes I do." Zelena's eyeballs were practically boring holes into her back. "And I'm still not going to talk about it."

The Wicked Witch sighed loudly. "Your choice I guess. Although I have to say sis, there's a definite upside to your current mental breakdown."

Regina followed her sister's gaze to the window sill, where over a dozen apple tarts lay steaming, their pungent aroma wafting out on the evening breeze, carrying the smell of her demented baking to the residents of Storybrooke. Her prized apple tree, usually brimming with crimson orbs, branches heaving under their weight, stood almost bare of any fruit at all. If she carried on like this, she'd run out of apples before the week was out. She needed to see Emma Swan before she lost her damn mind.


	15. Chapter 15

She stared into the mirror. Her reflection held her gaze, the faintest whiff of judgement in its eyes. She sighed heavily and leant forward, the coolness of the glass on her forehead a momentary relief against the migraine currently washing over her.

It had been a week, one whole week, seven entire days since Emma Swann had been inside her. Those words alone caused her stomach to clutch, the knot between her legs lurching forward and pushing itself up against that little bundle of nerves that was oh so specific, oh so delicious, oh so broken from constant, repetitive use. Seven days, one for each fucking dwarf, and still the daughter of Snow White, the Saviour of Storybrooke, the Dark One had not been to see her.

What had happened between them had not been of no consequence. Regina knew that, and she knew Emma Swann knew it too. It was not just some one-off quickie, not some random hook up with a complete stranger. It had been intense, it had been deep, it had been basic, carnal, cerebral and magical all at the same time and it had blown her fucking mind. It was something that had been a very long time coming; it had _meant_ something. So why, then, was the Dark One ignoring her? Regina's body sang out for her touch, cried out desperately. If her need for Emma Swann had been bad before the hospital bathroom, it was a hundred times worse now, so much so that she was beginning to feel physically ill from sheer want. The craving interrupted her life constantly, from her waking days to her writhing dreams. Every other second her mind would wander off, blissfully recalling those few precious moments, coming alive with sensory recollection, causing her to overload. Surely she was not the only one that felt that way? Surely Emma Swann felt it too? How, then, could she stay away?

Regina turned away from the mirror, her body vibrating. She could get Emma here, she could get her here in an instant, of course she could, but she didn't want Emma to come because she _had_ to, to materialise in front of her purely because Regina had dropped her name three times and she had no other choice. After last time, the way Emma had taken her and then _left_ her, to have to beg her to do it again would made Regina feel cheap, and Regina would not feel cheap for anyone, not even the Dark One. She wanted Emma to need her, to want her as much as Regina did her, and to fucking show it. Was it too much to ask?

Her frustration only fed her headache. She rubbed her temples, opening the mirrored cabinet, searching through the various pill boxes to find some maximum strength pain killers. The throbbing in her head was only outdone by the throbbing between her thighs. If only there were a pill to stop that. As the week had gone on, its insistent pulsation had grown from a simple fluttering to a pounding that refused to be satiated. Touching herself only served to feed its frenzy, the expected release merely increasing the ache. Every time her eyes closed or her mind wandered, images of Emma Swann's lips at the apex of her thighs flooded her imagination, causing her panties to bulge under the sudden rush of blood, wetness oozing from between her swollen lips, damp patches spreading across the thin, delicate silk that gently caressed her flesh. She was averaging five pairs a day at the current rate and her desire showed no signs of abating anytime soon. Not until she felt the Dark One rather than herself. She was desperate for her, suffering under the absence of her touch. She popped two pills out of the pill jar, throwing them down her throat and dry swallowing them, trying to ignore the images of Emma that flashed in front of her eyes. Emma on her knees, hands sliding up Regina's thighs, a look of cruel want and a flash of mercy in her eyes, a wicked tongue that quivered between her lips, its tip darting in and out just inches from her sex. Regina couldn't help the strangled cry of want that escaped her mouth as in her mind's eye, Emma's warm lips pushed through the molten lava of Regina's, Emma's tongue lapping up the hot liquid pouring from Regina's centre, Emma's mouth sucking on her engorged parts, kissing her delicately, licking with long firm strokes, rolling her tongue up and down, sliding inside her just enough to fuck her…

" _No_!"

It took all the force Regina could muster to push herself away from the washbasin and bring herself back to reality. She threw the cold fausset open, thrusting her face in the gushing stream of ice cold water, the shock of it slamming the door shut on Emma Swann's laughing face. Regina's entire body was trembling and her nerves were shot to shit. This could not go on any longer. She wasn't going to call Emma Swann, she wouldn't give her that fucking satisfaction. But she was going to find her and when she did, there would be fucking hell to pay, Dark One or not.


	16. Chapter 16

It was as if everyone in Storybrooke had received a memo telling them to interrupt her for as long as humanly possible on her way over to Emma's house. If her levels of irritability were at a high when she closed her own front door, by the time she reached the Dark One's, the Evil Queen was dangerously close to resurfacing. Mary Margaret, of course, had been the first and worst.

"Regina!"

Regina's eyes remained set forward, focused on her target at the other end of the high street, ignoring the plump brunette with seasoned conviction. The smaller woman ignored Regina's obvious vibe with equally practiced intent.

"Regina, wait up! Slow down!"

"Not now Mary Margaret."

"Regina I need to talk to you."

"I don't have _time_ , Mary Margaret, I'm sorry." Regina tried to keep frustration from breaking through her voice but it was hard when confronted with such a monumental nuisance as Snow White. She quickened her pace in an effort to shake the tail, but the other woman was surprisingly spritely and not only caught up with Regina, but positively overtook her, whirling back on herself and blocking the Mayor's path. Regina flung two hands up in exasperation.

"Er hello! Do you mind?"

"I need to talk to you about last week at the hospital, about Emma."

Regina's eyes flew wide open. Had Emma told her mother? Did Mary fucking Margaret know what had gone down on the cold hard tiles of the restroom? She felt herself flush crimson, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. Luckily for her, Mary Margaret read her reaction entirely wrong.

"Please, Regina," she pleaded, "please don't get angry." She shook her tousled head, eyes cast down in what looked like sorrow. Regina tempered her attitude slightly.

"Why would I be angry?"

That oh-so-familiar doleful Snow White look came full force onto Mary Margaret's face, heralding the announcement of a moment of self-realisation that the woman felt she simply _had_ to share with the rest of the world. Regina's foot tapped impatiently on the sidewalk.

"I shouldn't have said what I said to you at the hospital, about being Emma's saviour. It was wrong of me, I know that now."

"It's ok, really it is."

Regina threw her a rushed smile and tried to circumnavigate her way past. No such luck. Mary Margaret's arms flew out, her hands grabbing Regina's upper arms, squeezing them hard as if to impart _just_ how sorry she really was.

"It's not though. I was entirely out of order throwing that on you like that, assuming things and jumping to conclusions. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all week."

 _And I haven't been able to stop thinking about fucking your daughter all week but I hardly felt the need to stop you in the street and tell you all about it_ , her brain snapped venomously. Thankfully her mouth stayed shut.

"It was far too much pressure to put on one person," the other woman wittered on, unfettered by care or thought. "We've faced things like this before, worse things than this, and we've always done things as a team. With Emma or for her, it doesn't make a difference, we'll handle it as a family, I know that now. Can you forgive me, Regina?"

Regina took a deep inhalation, stilling her frayed nerves and looking Mary Margaret dead in the eye. "I've forgiven you for much worse, Snow, so yes, I can forgive you for this." She saw the reaction to the hidden barb in her words and a part of her long forgotten thrilled at the hurt caused. "Now please, I have to be somewhere urgently and not to be rude, but you are entirely in my way."

The wind was somewhat taken out of Mary Margaret's sails and so this time, Regina was successful in passing her by, picking up the pace once again and paying her once arch-nemesis no more mind. She'd gone no more than 50 yards when her name was called yet again.

"Regina! Mayor Mills!"

She turned on her heel to see Doctor Whale coming in her direction, his arm raised aloft to catch her attention, his white medical coats flapping as he ran jauntily across the road. She screamed internally but stopped all the same.

"Doctor Whale. What can I do for you?"

Smoothing his hair back from his brow, the man smiled graciously at her, taking his sweet time to get to whatever his point was. "When are you going to come and see Robin?"

When he got to the point he certainly didn't beat around the bush. She felt her brow arch at the impudence of the question.

"I fail to see how that has anything to do with you?"

The man frowned. "I'm his doctor, Regina. And you're his girlfriend. I would have thought you'd want to come and see him, find out how he's doing? The man's been in and out of a coma for a week now and we've seen hide nor hair of you since you bought him in. Don't you want to know if he's ok? Don't you want to spend some time with him? Hearing your voice might help."

Regina's temper was barely under control. "For your information," she said with as much grace as she could muster under the circumstances, "Robin and I are no longer together. So while I wish him the best and I do hope he makes a speedy recovery, no I don't want to come up to the hospital and no I don't want to see him. Is that clear enough for you?"

"He keeps calling out your name."

"He'd have more chance calling out for Mother Theresa, Doctor Whale."

"Regina, please. I'm sorry that you've broken up but even if you're not together, hearing a familiar voice really could help break the coma once and for all. Even when he's conscious, he's not really there. He needs something to help break through the fog. Stimulants like the voices of loved ones can really help in cases like this."

The familiar burn of magic bubbled within her palms. She balled her hands into fists, thrusting them down by her sides, containing the growing fury.

"I will say this one last time. Robin and I are no longer together. His health issues are none of my concern. While I wish him the best I will not be coming to visit him. Please, Doctor, do _not_ make me repeat myself." Her smile was tight and cold. The Doctor visibly wilted under her gaze.

"I'm sorry. Point taken." He stepped away from her, tugging the front of his hair deferentially. "Have a good day."

"I'm trying," Regina hissed under her breath as she got underway yet again. She could see Emma's front door, the clean, sharp white edges sitting like a beacon amid the cool, grey wooden slats of the house exterior.

"Sis!"

Her view was blocked by the looming ginger head of Zelena, coming out of absolutely nowhere.

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

Green eyes spread themselves wide in shock. "Erm and hello to you too!"

Regina clasped her hands together to control the magic that was fairly spitting at this point. It was a move that didn't go unnoticed by her older sister.

"What's with all… this?" Zelena waved her fingers in Regina's general direction, an eyebrow raising itself in consternation… "You are the original angerball this morning, aren't you!"

"Zelena, as much as I love you, if you don't move out of my way I am going to wipe you from the face of the fucking planet."

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

Regina felt like she could cry. "All I am trying to do is make it to the end of the road before the fucking sun sets, and every Tom, Dick and Mary Margaret is getting in my way!"

"So?"

"So I don't have time!" Regina ground out.

"What's so bloody urgent?" Zelena followed the track of Regina's gaze. " _Oh_. I might have guessed. Got your panties in a knot for the Dark One sis? This really has got to stop. You're going to end up embarrassing yourself."

"I'm on my way over there to stop it, or I'm trying to. If people would get out of my way," she said pointedly.

"Don't mind me," Zelena said airily, "if you want to go and get fucked over by the latest incarnation of pure evil then be my guest. Or perhaps you just want to get fucked by her instead?"

"Don't be stupid," Regina hissed, but the flush returned to her face, crimson betraying her and the wit of her sister far sharper than that of Mary Margaret. She saw realisation dawn on her sister's face as what had been a mere throwaway comment became a much more heavily loaded one.

"You need to be very careful, Regina, you need to seriously think about what you're doing." Zelena's voice had dropped it's usual mocking tone.

"I know exactly what I'm doing, thanks. It's not like I haven't been involved with a Dark One before, or you for that matter."

Zelena ignored the jab. "She's not like any other Dark One Regina, she's not like Rumpelstiltskin."

"I know that."

"Well if you do, why aren't you acting like it? Emma Swann is not something that you can try to manipulate or control like you did with Rumpel. She was light magic, and now she's dark magic, and that has _never_ happened before. She's more powerful than you realise, than she realises. You're going to get hurt. You need to stay away."

"I can't." There was nothing Regina could put up in her defence, not in front of her sister. She could bullshit pretty much anyone else but not Zelena. "I can't stay away from her, I can't stop thinking about her, I can't stop fantasising about her, I can't stop feeling her all around me. I _need_ to see her."

Zelena shook her head, trying to hook her arm through Regina's. The Mayor dodged her sister.

"Please don't try to stop me. I'm a grown woman Zelena. I make my own decisions."

"Even if they're wrong? Even if they'll get you hurt, or killed?"

"You're blowing things out of all proportion!"

"No I'm not. You're not thinking properly. If you were, you'd realise I'm right. You'd stay away from Emma Swann." Again she reached out for Regina, again Regina eluded her grip. "What about Henry?"

"What about Henry?" Regina said angrily.

"You're not even thinking about how confusing all of this will be for him! He's already having to cope with the fact that one of his parents is now the Dark One, what the hell do you think he'll do when he finds out his mother's are shagging behind his back?"

Now Regina moved towards Zelena, the redhead taking her turn to back away. " _Don't_ bring my son in to this." Her eyes narrowed and the power in her palms crackled audibly between them. "You know me better than that sister."

Zelena threw her palms up in surrender. "Ok. I'm sorry. But I'm right. You know I'm right. I just hope you realise before it's too late." Without another word she turned on her heel.

Regina blew a hot stream of air from her cheeks, then raised her gaze once more towards the white door now just yards from her. Rage reverberated the length of her body, her magic quivering in anticipation of being unleashed. As each step bought her closer to Emma Swann, that magic began to mix with something more primal, a base sorcery that sent wave after wave of tantalising sensation across every inch of her body. Her flesh called out to Emma Swann, it danced and shivered in an almost imperceptible rhythm, a vibration that only the two of them existed on. Her nipples stiffened against the taut fabric of her bra, her sex tightening and swelling between her legs, growing unbearably large, nudging on the silk of her panties so that she thought she might cum there and then on the doorstep of Emma Swann's house. She had not wanted to beg Emma to take her, she had not wanted to plead for her touch. She had planned on taking control, she had been nothing but intent on telling Emma what would and wouldn't happen between them. As she raised her hand to push the doorbell, Regina realised once again that she would debase herself, obey any command, behave however Emma Swann wanted her to, if only she would take her into her arms and onto her fingers. She groaned at the thought of Emma's fingers, hot liquid gushing from between her thighs in anticipation. The door opened. Regina's blood ran cold.

"Mom?"


	17. Chapter 17

"Henry?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I might well ask you the same thing young man," Regina said, trying to regain some semblance of coolness in front of the inquisitive eyes of her adoptive offspring. She could still feel her skin burning, the flush of arousal rampant across her cheeks and chest, the heat between her legs refusing to abate. She could see Henry frowning, her question apparently falling on deaf ears. "Well?" she demanded.

Emma Swann slid up behind Henry as if out of nowhere, her porcelain skin catching the rays of sunlight that drifted through the clouds above, the gossamer threads of her crystalline hair reflecting the same light, refracting it in what seemed like a million beams. Leaning up against the doorframe, she eyed Regina easily, one arm resting up against the woodwork over Henry's head, the other lifting a red apple to her lips. As she bit into it, small bubbles of juice erupted through the skin as her teeth sank into the crisp crimson, her soft, wet lips pushing up against the body of the ruby orb, a finger darting out almost absentmindedly to wipe off a small drop of nectar that threatened to drip down her chin.

"...visiting Emma."

She blinked, realising she hadn't heard a word Henry had said. The Dark One realised it too, the faint glimmer of a wicked smile curling up the corner of her mouth. Regina shook her head, physically tearing her gaze from Emma's mouth, avoiding her eyes at all costs.

"I'm sorry Henry, what?"

Her son frowned for the second time in as many minutes. "I _said_ ," he ground out patiently, "that I was here visiting Emma."

"Why?"

"He is my son, Regina, or had you forgotten that?"

Regina finally turned her gaze to Emma, trying desperately to keep her emotions in check. While there was no point trying to hide her previous demeanour, which was quite literally written across her reddened face, at the very least she could keep a lid on it from hereon in. Even with Emma's eyes stalking up and down her body with chilled abandon. Regina felt naked under her stare, shifting uncomfortably on the spot, feeling the fabric of her clothes against her body, feeling the restrictions they placed against her, feeling her bodily reactions betray her forced sheen of composure. She felt anger bite at the back of her throat, frustration at her inability to control the situation.

"I've been trying to forget that particular fact since the moment you walked into Storybrooke," she snapped crossly.

It was a low blow, reminiscent of past days. Henry's eyes widened at the uncloaked barb, Emma's dancing dangerously behind him.

"Mom!"

"Now now, Mayor Mills, no need to get so testy. We're all family here. Well…" Emma stopped and pretended to think, tapping her finger against her chin before looking pointedly at Regina… "some of us are." She flashed her eyes wide and then closed them almost shut like a big cat would, extending the challenge, bringing the apple back to her lips for a second bite, refocusing Regina's attention on that damned source of all her pleasure. Regina bit back an involuntary moan as her body reacted to the movement of Emma's mouth. She scowled at Emma, the deep scar that sat atop her lip positively quivering with anger. The crackle that had plagued her palms only moments before now took a dive, settling between her thighs, pulsating, radiating, throbbing. Steeling herself, she turned her attention to Henry.

"Darling, I know Emma is your mother, and so I know you're only trying to help, but right now you need to remember that she's also the Dark One. You can't just come round here like you used to, not by yourself. It just isn't safe anymore."

"Mom…" Henry was cut off by Emma before he had chance to formulate another word in protest.

"Go home Henry."

Emma's voice was tight and controlled, almost strangled by the onslaught of ice cold anger. Henry stared at his other mother, scared by the sudden, rapid change. Regina kept her eyes trained on Henry. She could feel the rising tide of fury just inches away from her, her own magic leaping inside her in response. She wasn't surprised. She'd scratched at the only weakness Emma Swan had, the only chink in her considerable armour. Yes, it was another low blow. Trying to deny her access to Henry when she was just plain old Emma Swan, simply the Saviour of Storybrooke had been impossible; threatening to do that when she possessed all the known dark power in their universe was practically bordering on suicide. But Regina couldn't help herself, Dark One or not. In the face of Emma's cheap taunt at her expense she was fully willing to hurl one straight back at her, repercussions be damned. After all the frustration and tension of the past week, the slow, anticlimactic build-up of Emma Swan's no-show, the lack of her presence, her attention, her touch, even just this miniscule piece of interaction felt fucking good.

"But…"

"Go _home_ Henry!"

Still avoiding Emma's eye, Regina stepped between her son and her nemesis. "Henry, do as she says."

He shook his head vehemently, dark curls falling across his forehead. "I'm not leaving you alone with her." He looked at Emma. "I'm sorry, I am, but she's right. I love you, and I know you're in there, somewhere, really I do, but you're not yourself right now. You're going to hurt someone. Me, or mom, or grandma or granddad."

Regina felt the magic in the air swirl violently. She grabbed Henry by the shoulders, forcing his attention onto her. "Go. I can look after myself Henry, I promise. Don't worry about me."

His resolution wavering, still he refused to move, hesitating, looking between one mother and the other. "You sure?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'll be ok. Just go to Mary Margaret and David's, ok?"

"Ok." He looked at Emma, fear mingling with concern storming across his youthful features. Finally, he picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, trudging down the garden path, looking back every other step as if he'd already made some huge mistake leaving Regina with Emma.

"Inside. _Now_."

A shiver ran down Regina's spine, every muscle in her body singing in grim anticipation as Emma's magic swirled around her like a raging, malevolent maelstrom. Relinquishing herself to the dark control, she found herself inside Emma's house, the front door slamming shut, the Dark One bearing down on upon her.


	18. Chapter 18

**_Trigger warning: if violent situations are a trigger for you I would advise against reading this chapter or at the very least taking it slowly x_**

The room was swimming, the light beginning to dim around the peripheries, strange spots of light flickering in and out across her vision. The hand that gripped around her throat was unrelenting, the pressure against her windpipe breathtaking. Her back muscles automatically seized up against the wood of the front door, the handle digging painfully into the top of her hip. It would have made her wince if every ounce of her concentration wasn't focused on trying to take another breath. She tried to keep the blind panic at bay, tried not to struggle, to whimper, to cry out, but as her thought process began to jitter and stutter, as her lungs burned and her mouth opened and closed, desperate for one last gasp of fresh air, she could feel her feet kicking and her palms banging against the door. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Darkness in Emma was licking its lips at the thought of a kill, would relish squeezing the life out of her without a second's thought.

"Emma!"

It was the one word she could squeeze out on what little breath she had left, a hail Mary of mercy. The grip around her neck lessened, just enough to let cold air rush down her windpipe. The rush was intoxicating, the blood swirling to her head and around her body suddenly filled with oxygen, her skin tingling, her braining buzzing, every deprived cell reacting instantaneously. Through the haze she saw Emma's eyes darken, desire weighing up against raging anger.

Anger won out. As if she weighed nothing more than a rag doll, Emma threw Regina across the room. Crashing into the far wall, the wind knocked out of her, Regina had no time to recover as Emma's hand was round her neck again, hauling her up the smooth plaster to her feet.

"You want to play games with my son, Regina?" Regina tried to get a word out but as she opened her lips the back of Emma's free hand came crashing across her face with some force. "What, you have something to say?" Emma's top lip was curled up in a cruel sneer, her eyes darting from one of Regina's to the other, questioning her. "Unless it's a fucking apology then I don't want to hear it." Her gaze narrowed, the sneer deepening, her grip around Regina's throat tightening again and the room starting to blur once more. Regina's hands flew to Emma's forearm, magic crackling and burning as their skin connected. Emma shook her head, tutting gently, chiding Regina. "Have you learnt nothing yet? Are you really that fucking stupid Regina?"

"I'm not stupid," the brunette snapped, her voice straining to make itself heard across her compressed voice box.

Emma cocked her head to one side, eyes glinting like unamused steel. "Really? You could have fucking fooled me."

Regina found herself flying across the room again, slamming painfully into the legs of a wooden table, groaning at the impact, feeling the bruising swelling along her side almost immediately, yet losing herself in the sudden charge of furious magic boiling up within her veins. Her body cried out in agony, her spirit raged with anger, darkness long forgotten, pushed down, now threatening to erupt out of every pore. She pushed herself onto all fours like an animal, eyes blazing up at Emma, waiting for the next attack to come, winding herself tighter and tighter like a dangerously coiled spring.

"You should see yourself."

Emma stayed on the other side of the room, watching her with cold detachment. Her hand raised slowly, elegantly, poised and precise, the very opposite of Regina. With a flick of the wrist, Regina's reflection appeared in front of her, snarling, almost foaming at the mouth with anger, nails scrabbling into the wooden floorboards, her dress ripped down one side, her cheek still stained red where Emma's hand had connected with her only moment ago. Her eyes widened as she took herself in, saw how low she had literally sunk.

Now Emma sauntered over, cool and casual, walking around the shimmering copy of Regina in the middle of the room, crouching down beside the other woman, her black heeled boots just inches from Regina's face. Regina shivered, although through fear or exhilaration, she couldn't tell. She shoved down an almost irresistible urge to reach down and lick Emma's boot.

As if reading her thoughts, a low ripple of laughter left the lips of the Dark One. Regina turned to look at her, turning away from the site of herself debased before her, but quicker than her brain could comprehend Emma's fingers seized upon her chin, forcing her to stare straight ahead at her pathetic carbon copy. Regina blinked. Where the Dark One should have been, pressing against her with every second, her fingers twisting into Regina's face, there was nothing, simply Regina by herself, wincing, wide-eyed, limbs giving way onto the floor as Emma's black magic surged and swirled with her own.

"I wouldn't want you to miss the show," Emma drawled, her face now a whisper away from Regina's, hot breath that accompanied her words causing a river of impossible sensation to ripple across her flesh. Her stomach fluttered at Emma's intent, her anger failing, her will diminishing by the second as a thousand butterflies with razor sharp wings letting loose between her thighs. She groaned audibly, the pressure from Emma's fingers increasing almost imperceptibly as she did so.

"Stand up," the blonde ordered. Regina remained on the floor, not enough of her yet willing to do as Emma commanded. Emma snarled at her insubordination. "I said, _stand up_. Or do you need a little more convincing?"

Regina cried out, the pressure on her neck once again. "No, please!"

"Then stand. The fuck. Up."

With considerable effort Regina pushed herself up from the floor, her body aching, pain shooting up her side where she'd clattered into the living room furniture.

"Hurts?" enquired Emma, faux concern dripping from her voice. Regina nodded miserably, traitorous, hot tears pricking her eyes. "Then I suppose next time you won't try and pitch me against my own fucking son, will you?"

Regina shook her head. "I'm sorry." Her whole body thudded with a dull burn yet even as her limbs and torso begged for faint relief, something much stronger kept her upright, something that craved Emma's touch, begged for her cruel caress, even if it were just to inflict more pain.

"Sorry won't cut it, Regina, not for something like this. You knew full well what you were saying, you knew how much it would hurt me and still you had to go ahead, didn't you?… " Silence from Regina. " _Didn't you_?"

"Yes!"

Emma circled her like a lioness with her prey, just as hungry, just as deadly. "And you did it in front of Henry too, didn't you."

"Yes."

"Did you want to shame me?"

Regina hung her head, not daring to catch Emma's eye, not wanting to see herself. "No, I didn't."

Emma hissed angrily in her ear. "Liar! I'll ask you again. Don't make me hurt you any more Regina. Did you want to shame me?"

Regina shook her face miserably from side to side but heard the lie come out anyway, barely audible, still there. "Yes."

"Why would you want to do that, Regina?" Emma moved away from her, still circling, still watching her, her gaze constant, hard, unwavering. Regina wilted underneath it yet came painstakingly alive, a dichotomy of emotions ripping her in two, conflicting her, twisting her mentally and physically. "Unless you just wanted to get my attention?"

The nugget of truth in her statement caused discomfort to flicker in Regina's eyes. Emma missed absolutely nothing, her lips parting.

"Ah! Of course. Of _course_ you wanted my attention." She widened her circle, leisurely stalking Regina and her reflection now. "After your little display in the bathroom," she hummed to herself with pleasure, her eyes closing as she conjured up an internal memory, then flickering open again, jet black and brimming with nothing but pure lust. "So, now you have my attention, what _will_ you do with it?"

Her voice dripped with venom, its tone reverberating up and down Regina's body, her insides quivering, her sex trembling. Her cheeks flamed with desire, her nipples pressing painfully against the confines of her clothing. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be exposed in front of Emma, to shed herself of any barriers that might stand in the way of her flesh and Emma's desires. Fingers shaking, she reached up for the zipper on the side of her dress.

"Good girl." There was a crack in Emma's voice that only stirred Regina to action. All she could think about was atoning for her behaviour, all she wanted to do was to give Emma whatever it was she wanted, all she could feel was white hot heat curling up like a snake in the pit of her stomach and seeping down her inner thighs.

"Watch yourself."

Regina forced herself to look up. Her double, incandescent with desire, stared back at her, fear in her eyes, hand shaking as it followed her lead and pulled her ripped dress completely undone. The black material fell from both of them, pooling at their feet, revealing their toned, tanned body, just lacy silk underwear standing between them and the Dark One. Regina looked down at her reflection, instantly blushing as she saw the large damp patch covered the front of her pretty little panties. Emma followed her eyes.

"Look at that, you filthy little bitch. Are you wet for me?"

Regina and her reflection nodded, redness crossing their chests to match their face. Emma crossed the room, coming to stand next to Regina. Slowly, torturously, her fingers reached out, the tips of them inches from Regina's sex. She watched herself moan at the invisible anticipation before her, her cunt throbbing, twitching, begging.

"What would you do, I wonder, to feel my fingers?" Emma mused sadistically. Regina wanted to scream with desperation. "Would you get down on your knees and beg? Would you, Regina? Would you beg for my fingers to fuck your pussy?" The Evil Queen groaned at the filth coming from Emma's mouth. "Or would you fuck yourself for me, right here? Would you finger your cunt over and over and over again until you came like a dirty little whore, just for me?" Molten liquid dripped down the inside of Regina's thigh, her reflection shaking, eyes glazed over with naked lust and shameful need. "Will you fuck yourself for me Regina?"

Emma moved behind Regina now, snapping her fingers, Regina's underwear disappearing. Her breasts bounced, nipples taut like turrets, demanding Emma's touch, her touch, any fucking touch. Her tight, high ass quivered nervously, her pussy inflamed, swollen, pushing insistently through the tops of her thighs as her blood rushed furiously.

"Or should I just fuck you myself? Should I string you up and play with you for hours, making you come just for me?" The tip of her tongue grazed the very top of Regina's ear, the woman almost coming apart at the simplest of touches.

"Please…" Regina moaned, her eyes rolling into the back of her head at the thought of being Emma's plaything.

"Do you want me, Regina?" Emma's tongue trailed a path down the side of Regina's neck.

"Yessss…." hissed Regina.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Regina?" Her fingers barely brushed the undersides of Regina's breasts, causing her body to buck wildly.

"Oh my… yes, yes, _yes_!"

"Will you do whatever I want you to?" Emma's tongue flickered snakelike across the deep dip between the top of Regina's ass cheeks, Regina mewling like an animal in response. Emma twisted her round violently, the Dark One now on her knees, Regina's sex just inches from her face, from her mouth, from her lips, from her tongue. Regina head span and she felt she might go mad from nothing but pure, insane, flaming desire.

"I'll do anything! Anything! Whatever the fuck you want! Just please fuck me! Please!"

Emma growled, the vibrations dancing across the wet, painfully swollen lips of Regina's pussy. "Fuck you like an animal?"

Regina shoved her hands into her hair, thrusting her body towards Emma Swan, spreading her legs recklessly, consequences of her promises be fucking damned. "Fuck me whatever way you fucking want, I don't fucking care!"

"Are you mine?" Emma's lips grazed the very curve of Regina, nothing more, hovering millimetres away and sending her into absolute overdrive.

" _Yes_!"

"Do you _belong_ to me?" Her tongue slipped quickly between Regina's sopping folds, the faintest of touches, just an instant but Regina's hands clutched at her breasts, twisting her nipples, radiating in the pain that matched just a breath of pleasure at the hands of Emma.

" _Yes! Yes!_ "

"Do you belong to the Darkness?" Emma's tongue dived up inside Regina's pussy, thrusting violently up against her inner walls, her lips crashing up against Regina's clit, the sudden contact loosening her limbs, flooding Emma's face.

" _I never left_..."

Regina wept. Joy, shame, pleasure and pain washed over her in equal measure as Emma Swan fucked her over and over and over again with her cruel, wicked tongue. Emma's Dark Magic oozed out of her, wrapping itself around Regina, inserting itself into every single pore, sweeping through her body, rushing across her nervous system, finding every single sweet spot and hitting it again and again and again until Regina was deliriously high on villainous sensation. Her hands left her chest, coming down to thrust themselves into Emma Swan's white locks, seizing on her head and pulling her deeper and deeper, not caring if she crushed her as long as this feeling, this feeling didn't stop. She could feel it building, feel it coming, she felt the tide beginning to roll over her, immersing her, sounds drowning, light fading, the dark tidal wave coming. Emma's tongue thrashed faster and faster, deeper and deeper, her hands pulling Regina's ass towards her face. As the room enveloped in on itself, stars colliding behind Regina's shuttered eyes, the Dark One slid one small finger inside the tight, puckered entrance to Regina's ass.

The Evil Queen came with a ferocity she'd not felt in centuries. From the front to the back she shattered on top of the Dark One, her whole being blown into a thousand pieces, condensing in one place, on one face, violently grinding against it as orgasm after un-fucking-relentless orgasm rode through her. Her limbs contorted, her body shuddered, her cunt thundered, her ass begged for more as she opened a long-shut window and came full face with the Darkness she had once wanted more than anyone, more than anything in the world. It twisted in front of her, beautiful, malevolent, threatening, inviting, seducing her, clawing at her, devouring the edges of her very soul like it could feed on her essence until there was nothing left of her at all…

With all the force Regina Mills could summon, she physically ripped herself away from Emma Swan. The blonde fell backwards onto the hard floor, swimming in dark energy, her face wet with Regina's juices, her eyes half shut in the back of her head, drunk on the opiate-like exchange of pure power that had flowed through the two of them like a flooded river, crashing over weakened banks and washing everything in its path away. Blinded, barely able to see, Regina stumbled away from Emma, clambering panicked onto the soft couch, her body still singing a symphony to the Darkness, the dying throes of an almighty orgasm wringing out the very last few drops of her weakened resolve. She groaned, her head falling back against the fabric cushion.

"What the hell have you _done_ to me?"

The low ripple of grim laughter was her only answer.


End file.
